


DEUS INVICTUS

by Racelett



Series: One Piece Celebrity!AU [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Celebrity!AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 15:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6711430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racelett/pseuds/Racelett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part."</p>
<p>The designer Crocodile Emporio and the actor Doflamingo Donquichotte have to overcome many problems to finally become a romantic couple.<br/>But a life's story doesn't end at "and they lived happily ever after" - it goes on and on, and it carries felicity as well as hardship.</p>
<p>[Further summary in the notes inside]</p>
<p>-------------------</p>
<p>Written for the One Piece BigBang!2016 in collaboration with babblebuz and viv-heart. Thank you two so much for your cooperation and peatience with me.<br/>(To see their GORGEOUS art, click the links in the notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Young designer Crocodile Emporio is at the peak of his career when his search for a campaign model leads him to the young, extravagant and outstanding actor Doflamingo Donquichotte.  
> At the beginning he wishes for nothing more than to get job done as fast as possible and Doflamingo out of his life - though his heart betrayes him, longing after the man in each and every way.  
> But as he gets to know the man better, he decides to give in to Doflamingo and they find out of their love for each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Until the hardships of life put their love's destiny to the test, and both Crocodile and Doflamingo have to proove if their feelings for each other will be strogn enough to overcome everything...
> 
> ART1: http://viv-heart.tumblr.com/post/143687935202/my-second-contribution-to-this-years-opbigbang  
> ART2: http://babbledraws.tumblr.com/post/143688220308/my-part-for-the-lovely-saekoretts-fic-deus

When he was 12, his mother took him on a trip to Europe.  
In a few days they visited the most important metropolises of “Haute Couture”, his mother insisting him to go to each relevant fashion show in Paris, Berlin, Rome, and other capitals which only consisted of catwalks and headlights in Crocodiles memory.  
Only two cities managed to stay in his mind with him until he would become an old man.

 

\- Praha, 1985 -

It rained heavily on this day and the sky was gray and dark. Crocodile was bored and their Taxi didn't move one bit in the traffic jam of the big city.  
“I am sorry,” the driver apologized with his heavy Slavic tongue, maybe realizing that his guests weren't just some run-of-the-mill clients with shoes more expensive than his monthly salary could reach.  
“Where are we going?” Crocodile asked his mom in an attempt to fill the silence. His mom turned her head to him, gold triangle earrings jingling with the motion. Her hair gave a faint scent of perfume and her pointy lips were curling into a little smile.  
“A friend of mine, a famous artist, is having an exhibit at the museum.” She told him with a smooth voice, roughened at the edges by the consume of expensive whiskey and thin menthol cigarettes. Crocodile wondered how his mother managed to get rid of the tobacco stain, which should under normal circumstances follow her like a cloud. But when she patted his head – not lovingly, but with enough duty to make it seem so – he could only smell the perfume and a bit of her face powder.  
“You will pay attention to the exhibit. A good taste in art is what makes a man of the world.”  
'If I will ever be one'. Crocodile added in his thoughts.

 

The exhibit was boring and soon Crocodile was searching for polite ways to escape the crowds of chattering men in blue and sand-colored suits, and their piercingly laughing wives. He was glad his mom had never done that. Maybe the reason was that with no man at her side she had the freedom of dismissing any behavior being dictated by gender roles. Standing tall between two of those so-called artists, she emitted an aura of an untouchable good, something one could never attain without regretting it.  
Slipping away in a moment of her nonattendance, Crocodile left the exhibit hall into a passage way with a sign reading some unknown words to him and a big “B”.  
He regretted that his mother hadn't taught him the Czechoslovakian language.  
Aimlessly he strolled along the dark corridor to the main entrance hall, when a soft light from corridor on the right side caught his attention. He decided to follow his awakened curiosity.  
The soft shimmering broke through the small opening of a double door at the end of the short corridor like milk being spilled on the floor. Crocodile took the handle of one of the large doors, slipped through and closed the door behind him again.  
Inside he noticed the cloth-covered glass ceiling over him, through which the moonlight was filtered and gave the whole room a light glow.  
Crocodile turned around. Slowly his eyes got used to the darkness which was in the room despite the moonlight. First he noticed how big the hall was he had found. Big walls were standing freely around in it and as his eyes could make out more details of the room, he could see them.

_Huge Paintings._

Bigger than anything Crocodile had seen in his whole life. One canvas alone covered several meters’ in width and length, and on top of that, there were so many of them as Crocodile looked through the hall. He didn’t notice that he held his breath. The paintings were in soft colors, the people in them in poses which emitted a sense of grace and beauty that Crocodile only knew from his mother.  
He wandered through the hall, taking in each one of those worlds the huge paintings created.   
Suddenly something in the corner of the hall caught his eye. One of the huge canvases was bathed in moonlight which had found a tear between the cloths.   
The young boy stood in front of the wall and forgot for a moment that he even existed.   
The colors of pale blue and strong yellow, smooth red and lively green fading into each other, created a fog that seemed to wrap up Crocodile inside the scene that towered in front of him.  
Humans; men and women alike were floating like clouds on the flowing colors, dancing and laughing. A beauty was pouring out of them that put the young little boy, that Crocodile was back then, into a trance without comparison.  
His fingers glided forward, a need to touch developing inside him, to become one with that scenery in front of him, with the dancing children and with the goddess in the tree. Almost touching, almost slipping inside, he could feel it, ~almost~ -  
“Croccy-boy! Where are you honey?!” The deep rumbling voice of his mother rumbled through the building and Crocodile hurried to leave the room and returned to his mother’s side, who waited at the entrance of the party hall.  
“Where have you been, my boy?”  
Crocodile only shrugged at the semi-concerned face of his mother and feigned disinterest.  
But the painting wouldn't leave him alone for the rest of the night.

The days in Prague and the homeland of his mother found their end, and soon Crocodile found himself again in a plane. For him, the small floors and the tight seats seemed almost like a second home, that often he was above the clouds, jet setting with his mom from A to B, always on the run and never settling somewhere.  
Their next stop was Spain, Madrid. From there, they had a 'special meeting' with someone in Tarragona, whose identity his theatrical mother left in the shadows.  
Crocodile was well used to his mother's antics, and just followed her around. He threw curious looks on the city and the land that was so different from the dull appearance of the Czechoslovakia. Here, everything seemed to be in full, bright colors, the people laughed constantly and even the sun seemed to smile.  
It was a bit too much for Crocodiles liking, who even for his young age, found more solitude in silence than noise.  
But Tarragona held other surprises ready for him, which soon should make him forget about the noise and the smell of the old Romanian city.

Their destination was a Tapas Bar, and it was dirty. Crocodile didn't understand what his mother wanted in this shabby place, but still she had dragged him here into this dirty den of thieves, not caring for his opinion.  
It stank of cigars and alcohol, hanging like a thick cloud between the old, scratched furniture.  
“Remember one thing, my son”, his mother said, as she took his hand and carved a way between drunkards and whores. “Sometimes, a jewel is hidden in the shabbiest place. But if you get your hold on it first you will be the winner at the end.”  
She stopped at a table where a man was sleeping with his head on it. “So never feel yourself above digging a bit in the dirt.”  
She rolled up her sleeve, flexed her leather glove-covered fist, and punched the man on his temple so hard, he fell over his chair and down on the ground.  
“Mom!” Crocodile shouted out of reflex, not believing what had just happened. His eyes scanned the room in fear, that a brawl just as he knew them from television, would happen, but no one really seemed to mind. A few eyes were on them, but the tiredness inside them wasn't even enough to care longer than a few seconds, before the gazes were averted again.  
Meanwhile, the man on the ground coughed and spat out a bit of blood. His mother didn't seem to be moved by his horrible state.  
“Good morning Rayleigh. Oh, I suppose evening fits it better.” She crouched down as elegant as her costume allowed, and directed his gaze by his chin towards her. “We had an appointment, and you didn't come. You should know that it's not nice to make a lady wait.”  
The man’s eyes grew bigger as he seemed to recognize the woman in front of him, finally.  
“Mrs. Ivana.” he slurred, still drunk from whatever he had been consuming. The labels on the bottles on his table were too torn to determine their liquids inside.  
Slowly, the man stood up. He struggled with holding himself on his feet. “It's also not nice to wake a lost man with violence.” he yawned, his hand instantly searching after one of the bottles - but Crocodile’s mother grabbed his wrist in prevention.  
“I'll treat you to coffee, how about it? And then we can talk about business.”

The man’s name was apparently Silvers Rayleigh and he had been a master in the field of art trading.  
Crocodile wondered, where under all that dirty lumps the master was hidden.  
But soon during the conversation of his mother and Rayleigh, he noticed that the man was well-educated in historical events, and maybe there would've been, even a tad of respect, if not for his stinky breath. How his mother could withstand the toxic cloud around them was a mystery to Crocodile.  
Sunken in his thoughts, he didn't notice the boy running straight into him, until he fell rather ruggedly on the ground.  
“Ouch!”  
“Oh my, Croccy-boy! Is everything okay?” his mother chirped, breaking the conversation.  
Crocodile lifted himself up to look at the... kid? That was now lying in his lap.

_“Oi, Doofy! Get your ass up and out of here, you're bothering the grown-ups!”_

'Doofy' which must've been a very bad pun on a nickname, shook himself and then lifted his head. Shades were covering his eyes, and Crocodile found a bit of evidence, why that boy got his name. For heaven's sake: who ran around with sunglasses in a dark bar? That boy must've had some screws loose.  
 _“Don't order me around, drunkass!”_ The boy spat out, his blond hair resembling a Slumdog. He touched his head, looking if everything was okay. Then, his eyes came back to Crocodile (or rather, he assumed they were. God knows what that boy, who seemed just a bit younger but a lot shabbier than Crocodile, was hiding behind those shades.).

Crocodiles Spanish wasn't good enough to understand what exactly those two had spoken, but he could grasp the vague meaning of it. “Leave me alone!” he managed to snarl to the boy in his awful Spanish. The boy grinned and jumped up from him and eyed him from head to toes.  
“Are you rich??” The boy instantly asked in English with a heavy Spanish accent. Wow, what a surprise. A toothy smile presented itself to Crocodile.  
“Why do you want to know?” Crocodile muttered back, patting his clothes to get the dirt from the floor out. His mother and Rayleigh were already back to their conversation and didn't seem to give two more shits about what the boys were to do.  
The blond boy stood proudly, stretched legs and answered: “because I am too! My dad owns a biiiig” he stretched his arms to empathize the word, “Finca! With many cows and we have three cars and we have a biiiiiiig pool behind the house!” His grin was by now stretched nearly as far as his arms.  
Something itched Crocodile, who normally understood to hold his composure, to wipe that smile off of the younger boy’s face. He rose his head and tried to look down on the blond as best as he could. “So? We have three – no five big villas! In every important city we have one.”  
“So you have a house here too?”  
Crocodiles lie (in truth they had only the apartment in New York and run down cottage somewhere in England) was faltering, so he tried another tactic. “Tss. Sorry, but Spain isn't really good enough to have a house here, so no. Also it's boring as hell here. And dirty.”  
The blonde boy crooked his head to the side. “Dirty, huh?” A grin started to spread on his lips, splitting the dry skin on them a little bit. “You sure have a good talk, coming here and knowing nothing.” With his hands on his hips posing like he was Christoph Columbus himself, he self-confidently declared: “Well, I wanted to show you something reaaaaally really great. Like really great. And rare. Something you've neeeever seen before.”  
Crocodiles nerves twitched. “And now?”  
“Now? Not in the mood. After all, everything's DIRTY to you here, right?” He threw his head back and laid a hand dramatically on his forehead. “You don't have enough culture to understand the beauty of this land. Pig.”  
Crocodile couldn't believe he let himself be talked to in this manner and on top of that, by this rat of a child. But the same time, something in him irked him, to ask the boy, what was so special. There was a hint of a forbidden aura behind those shades and something inside Crocodile seemed to want to respond to it deeply.  
He let out a sigh. He was only a few days here and if the thing the boy wanted to show him was total shit he could still have a good laugh and walk away with his pride still being intact.  
“Okay. Show me this reeeally really good thing.” He snorted.  
“Ohoho? Interested now? But now it's too late.” the boy walked away from him, then turned around. “But I'm feeling geeenerous today. That is... if you can catch me.”  
And then, with a hop through the nearest open window, the child was away. Crocodile hissed angrily. His mom and Mister Rayleigh long forgotten, he ran to the entrance to follow the blonde devil’s laughter.  
The boy’s name was Doffy, not Doofy. “Only the old hags call me that if they're mad at me”, the boy had explained to him giggling, as Crocodile had finally caught up to him. Now he let himself drag through these filthy excuses of streets, the blond boy before him not quite eager to let go of his hand that early. Also, Crocodile had to admit, that he was curious what the blond had meant, when he had talked about that reeeaally really great thing. Still Crocodile started to wonder if this had really been the best idea.  
At least he had no troubles being alone in a city he didn't knew – his mother wasn't exactly someone who watched over him, which had given him more than one chance to escape out of boring parties and explore the big cities by himself.  
The streets became more and more narrow and suddenly, they were at a dead end.  
“You fool!” Crocodile smacked the younger boy. “You got us lost!”  
“Ouch!” the boy whined. “Did not! We have to get inside there! And stop hitting me, you snob!” His hand showed to a crack in the wall, just a meter tall and maybe 20 cm wide. Crocodile was in a serious mood to hit Doffy again.  
“No way we're gonna fit in that.” Crocodile spat out with a sour face. He was panting lightly and his newly tailored suit was sticking to his skin in the midday heat of Spain. “I'm going back.”  
“No! Come on, believe in me a little, okay?” Doffy approached the crack and Crocodile couldn't even blink as fast as he slipped between the torn wall into the inside of the tall building in front of them.  
He should return to his mother and persuaded her to leave this country as fast as possible. The smell of waste and cold ash tickled his nostrils and the heat messed with his common sense.  
With a sigh, he squeezed himself between the cracks in the wall and followed his personal downfall into the darkness.

 

Soft tunes where thumping in the dark, like the gentle beat of a calm heart. A melody from somewhere far away was resonating in the cold moist walls of the building they had entered.  
Right and left, up and down Crocodile chased after Doffy. The boy was fast on his legs.  
Every time he was almost behind him, the boy escaped again around a corner.  
Damn it all. Why was he even there? His thoughts were interrupted by a whispering voice, singing on the tunes in the walls.

_L’amour est un oiseau rebelle  
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,  
Et c’est bien in vain qu’on l’appelle  
S’il lui convient de refuser._

The voice seemed to come nearer and nearer as they stumbled through something which had the outlines of a dungeon from old ancient times. 'Catacombs?' Crocodile asked himself.  
“Oi Doffy!” He shouted to the boy which seemed like to be in a perpetuum mobile notion, not even a bit exhausted and still jumping in front of him as he led the way almost blindly (well maybe he had to even do that, with those shades, who knew?). “What is this he-eeeEEHH!?” Not watching his feet on the muddy ground for a second, he couldn't see the iron rod being half swallowed by the dirt.

_Rien n’y fait, menace ou prière.  
L’un parle bien, l’autre se tait.  
Et c’est l’autre que je préfère.  
Il n’a rien dit mais il me plait._

Crocodile could already see his face in the mud, and his clothes dirty and smelly. Instead, he landed on something soft and rose-smelling. It was Doffy’s chest, who had caught him. That boy must've had the reflexes of a cat. He looked up to his face to thank him, but he forgot his words. Instead of the shades, which must've had fallen down in their maneuver, he stared into two ice blue crystals, staring right back into the depths of his very being.

_L’amour! L’amour! L’amour! L’amour!_

Crocodile blinked one, two times to free himself of this weird spell he had been under. “Thanks,” he muttered. Trying to get out of his unlucky – and quite embarrassing he noticed now – position, he lifted himself up. “Where are we?” He brought the question up again, to hide the blush of embarrassment on his face.

_L’amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n’a jamais jamais connu de loi.  
Si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime.  
Si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

Doffy grinned while picking up his shades who had flown some feet away. “You will find out... don’t worry.” He whispered in a conspiracy voice, as if they were private detectives on a mission. He polished the glasses with a white rag he had taken out of his vest.   
“But more important is – can you hear it? This voice?”

_Si tou ne m’aimes pas, si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime,  
Mais si je t’aime, si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

“I'm not retarded. Of course can I hear it.” And really, now that Crocodile had a moment to concentrate, he could hear the voice of a female opera singer very dull through the dungeon, accompanied by some kind of orchestra. Where they under a theater?

_L’amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n’a jamais jamais connu de loi.  
Si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime.  
Si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

“Ah, up there! Come on, follow me! You will soon~ see it!” Doffy chirped and then he was again on his feet, running to a staircase hidden behind the old cells.  
“See what?” Crocodile shouted back, chasing after him.

_Si tou ne m’aimes pas, si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime,  
Mais si je t’aime, si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

Crocodile listened. The voice was now a bit more understandable as the whispers he had been able to pick up at the beginning became clearer.  
“What is this?”  
“The best thing which your ears will ever be able to hear!” And then, with a sudden jump to the left, the boy was sprinting up some old stairs to their right.

_L’oiseau que tu croyais surprendere  
Battit d’aile et s’envola.  
L’amour est loin, tu peux l’attendre.  
Tu ne l’attends pas, il est là._

On the upper stage they were now running along a long corridor which was slightly bowed to the left. Crocodile could feel like his condition slowly worsened the longer they ran around in this labyrinth.

_Tout atour de toi, vite vite,  
Il vient, s’en va, puis il revient.  
Tu crois le tenir, il t’evite.  
Tu crois l’eviter, il te tient._

Crocodile considered seriously if he was becoming an idiot now. Chasing after some other idiot, somewhere in a maybe-theatre, in a country he didn't know, in the midday heat, sticky, dirty, sweaty and exhausted. What was even his motivation?

_L’amour! L’amour! L’amour! L’amour!_

Stairs again. And after that, another corridor. Crocodile was, at this point, ready to just stop and leave the same way they had come from. Given the part, that he would find it. He was just a millimeter away from putting his resolve into action, when suddenly Doffy was heading to something which seemed like an exit out of the walls, sun shining through an archway.  
It was also the source of the music.

_L’amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n’a jamais jamais connu de loi._

'I must be an idiot.' With this thought in mind, Crocodile stepped out into the sun right after Doffy.

_Si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime.  
Si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

And then he heard it clearly. And he saw it clearly.

_Si tou ne m’aimes pas, si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime,  
Mais si je t’aime, si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

The amphitheatre. The stage under them, seats still empty, and on the stage: her.

_L’amour est enfant de Bohême,  
Il n’a jamais jamais connu de loi.  
Si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime.  
Si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

The most beautiful person he had ever seen with the voice of an angel.

_Si tou ne m’aimes pas, si tou ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime,  
Mais si je t’aime, si je t’aime, prends garde à toi!_

Her voice was a shudder down Crocodiles spine. It was almost as if his ears weren't able to comprehend what was had happen to them; what great gift he was able to receive right now in this very second.   
The blond troublemaker beside him showed him his toothy smile. “Awesome isn't it?” he whispered, full of excitement. “Tsuru is a goddess, isn't she?”  
Crocodile could only give a helpless nodding. To this day, he was enchanted.

 

He woke up to the piercing sound of his alarm clock.  
The last pictures of the dream he had, dissolved into faint smoke and didn’t show up again. He only remembered that it had to be from his childhood.  
His hand came up to shut up the annoying alarm. ‘Just five minutes more’. He thought to himself. Scrunching his nose, he knew he was lying to himself. He would instantly fall asleep if he didn’t get up now.  
The blanket was thrown to the side, and Crocodile brought his feet out of the bed to the smooth carpet by his bedside.   
The white texture was gracing his feet. Sometimes Crocodile would like to imagine, that he put his feet into the soft fluffy fur of a Polar Bear. But then again, he never used real animal pieces for his designs and his home being as it is would also never see a real animal trophy or other shit pompous people of his branch liked to put up their walls.   
For Crocodile, such behavior belonged into the same gross department as his task of the day: planning the campaign for his new perfume and inevitably the organization of a photoshoot for that very campaign.  
To say that Crocodile hated photographers was the understatement of the millennium. He downright DESPISED them. Their much too flashy attitude, their absolutely rude way to ask for pictures they were not supposed to take if they even had an ounce of dignity left in them – which, apparently, they hadn't – and their blatantly ignorant way towards him regarding decisions in photo shoots for his models.  
If he wasn’t the honorable and well-composed man everyone knew him to be, he long would've since punched their faces at the next “Oh, don't worry I KNOW what I'm doing! It's my job after all!”  
' No you don't and you are on the best way to ruin my whole image!' he would always scream, of course, only in his head. He had some dignity to preserve, after all.  
The more grateful he was for his loyal, competent secretary, his right-hand-woman: Paula Doublefinger.  
Speaking of the angel: Crocodile recalled that he had ordered her to be at his mansion today.  
And a quick check on his clock told him, that he had only fifteen minutes, to at least try to look minimum 17 % representable.  
Not that Paula would mind. She had already caught him in much worse situations, and only then Crocodile had learned to appreciate her completely unfazed way of handling those situations.  
After a quick shower and getting dressed he went down to his kitchen to get himself some coffee.  
In retrospect, it had been really a bad idea to get such a big house if the only housekeeper he allowed inside was the old and faithful Dadan.  
But his arrangement with the scruffy old woman was only two days per week. The rest of her time was spent with his Mother in the City apartment at the Capital.  
And so Crocodile was pressured to make himself breakfast and coffee. Skipping the breakfast eventually and getting something on the way to his company as it, oh, so often happened. 

 

Within his 25 years, Crocodile’s rise in the world of fashion and design was surely something else. Considering the situation and the stain that his ‘maker’ had left him and his mother, he had worked himself half to death to finally get the name Emporio clean of its earlier sins and shames.  
Now he owned a Billion Dollar label, being loved by the press as the ‘upcoming designer of the year’ with his robes decorating every catwalk from the USA to Asia. He had turned the mud he had inherited by his father into pure gold, and he was proud to call that success almost entirely his own.   
And of course the huge impact his mother had made on him, as they had jetsetter half of the world in his childhood, getting to see the fashion and art metropoles while his mother was establishing contacts and merging them into a huge network which had been essential for debut in the world of the rich and famous.

 

Crocodile opened the door to his office with closed eyes.  
The scent of Chrysanthemums, mint, freshly printed paper and mahogany came through his nostrils.  
He let the components come together in his head, mixing and mingling, trying to grasp the feeling which this particular scent stirred in him.  
After a while he opened his eyes.  
“Is it the one?” Paula asked, standing right beside him.  
Crocodile thought for a while.  
“…no.” A sigh left his secretaries lips. “There’s something lacking. Something…” he went to his big desk and sat behind it.  
“Should we try it with another flowers?” Paula asked as she set a pile of documents on Crocodiles desk. The designer waved it away.   
“No, it’s not the flowers fault. It’s something different.” He leaned back, thinking. In his mind, he replayed the first time he had entered his new office.   
The knowledge of having reached his dream.  
The pure joy of being invincible.  
Strong and reliable, like a god.  
“Can you put a bit of Patchouli into it next? Not too much, just a subtle tone.” He ordered Paula. She nodded back. “Of course, I can arrange that. The campaign is settled on the 21st of September, as you wished. The shootings will take place in May. That leaves you still two months to improve your perfume.”  
Crocodile gave her a thankful nod and dismissed her.

**‘ D E U S I N V I C T U S ’**

The new perfume he wanted to bring out in September the 21st would be subtle homage to himself and his success. This day exactly he had come to this office here, starting his big career as the designer he had always wanted to be, his own label, own reputation, own money. His own life.  
Back then he had felt like Zeus, opening the gates of Olympus.  
Nothing that could stop him, no one to tell him he couldn’t do it. He had shoved his success down all those ugly throats who had laughed down on him and his mother.  
And now he wanted to share exactly that feeling with the rest of the world.  
But there were still problems to solve.  
First, he still hadn’t found the perfect fragrance. Each time he had ordered Paula to prepare the office with a new set of different basic scents, trying to recreate that moment exactly.  
Now he seemed to be in the final steps – and was stuck because of one little detail, that was still missing, the last piece to his puzzle. It was like he had the perfect melody but not the key in which it had to be played.  
The second Problem came from a whole another section: Crocodile was very picky about who should be the face of the campaign. This time his product had a very personal note, and he didn’t want any nice face to just gave a plastic smile to the world while holding the bottle in his hands without even an ounce of understanding what it meant to him.  
He wanted the perfect image of someone who stood tall and strong, the face of a winner and a predator, someone who was able to make you kneel down with nothing more than the stare of his eyes. This and also Crocodiles problems with most models who looked good but had an awful personality in his eyes made the search more difficult than one could imagine.

What Crocodile wouldn’t have expected that the next month just had a solution in his hand.

With their flamboyant attitude and their shrill and absolute unique way of clothing, Bon Clay was the exact opposite of Crocodile and maybe more than one person would wonder how those two were even close friends.  
The answer would maybe surprise most of the people who weren’t as close to Crocodile.   
“Croque, mon ami! My partner in crime! I am so delighted~ to see you!”  
With her high voice and the pink paillette dress she was wearing, Bon came into the restaurant. It was still a mystery to Crocodile how the Drag queen managed to move her hips better than any model he had seen on the catwalks.  
With an exasperated sigh, Bon came to him and gave him a kiss right and left and again right on the cheek, then let himself dramatically fall into his chair. “Look around! A Lady is coming and none of these dimwits of a waiter is able to guide me to my place! Horrible! That’s discrimination on high-key, tu comprends?”  
Crocodile nodded only. No one had to tell him about discrimination at the work place – he had had his fair share on that as a young man.  
“Well, however that means no tips, oui? But you surely don’t call me out on this beautiful morning to listen to my daily struggle, n’est c’est pas?”  
Crocodile nodded. “I need your help on my newest project.”  
Bon raised an eyebrow. “Still that hard nutshell of your perfume, I suppose?” He dropped his French accent and took a sip of the wine the waiter had brought in the meantime.  
Crocodile nodded again. “I’m running out of ideas on what to do.” He admitted. With many sighs in between he started to tell about his latest results and the slow frustration that kept building inside him.  
Bon looked at him, making a duckface while twirling his glass of wine between his fingers.  
“Oh well, Croque. I am going to be honest with you – I have absolutely no idea.” He said with a flat face.   
“You always have an idea.” Crocodile countered, trying to make a compliment but also speaking the truth. Bon was a genius as a creative mind.  
It was successful, as Crocodile could see the flustered cheeks of the other man, but it still didn’t solve the problem. “I am afraid, when it comes to scents, I am absolutely not useful. I am the seller, not the creator.”  
Now it was Crocodiles time to let out a long sigh. “That’s that then. Still thank you.” He smiled appreciatively.  
The waiter came again and they both ordered their food.  
On their second glass of wine, Bon chatted with him about business.  
“Regarding your other problem, with the model for the campaign…”  
“Oh, don’t even start on that”, Crocodile interrupted him. “that’s still far away, and honestly I have enough headaches with the current situation. First I need to resolve the missing fragrance problem, the model can come after that. I’m not ready to deal with both at the same time.”  
Bon gave a playful smile. “And what~ If I had the painkiller for that?”  
Crocodile blinked a few times. “Enlighten me.”  
“MAYBE I, le grand Bonique, have the perfect candidate for you already sorted out? Tu comprends qu’est-ce que ca?” she folded her arms gallantly on the table.   
“Which would be?” Crocodile asked, raising an eyebrow in expectation at her.  
She gave a smile conspiring chuckle and after what seemed to be a dramatic pause, she finally spilled the beans:  
“Doflamingo Donquichotte.”  
Silence.  
“And that’s… who?” Crocodile asked, because he seriously had no idea who the woman was talking about.  
“Croque, mon cheri! I am in SHOCK!” Bon declared dramatically. “You mean to tell me you never heard of Doflamingo Donquichotte? The new shining star on Hollywoods firmament? The god of beauty, brought to life and bound to a – I f I may add outrageously HOT – human body? Mon dieu.”  
Crocodile almost believed her over exaggerated acting, that he had missed out on some interesting news regarding the almost daily changing upper society of the rich and famous.  
“I admit, that I had more serious matters in mind then spending my time reading the newest gossip.”  
“Oh. You hurt my feelings, cheri. And also my faith in you as a well-informed business man, who knows to grab an opportunity before it even presents itself.”  
Crocodile ears perked up at that comment. “What do you mean?”  
Bon, satisfied, that she had been able to catch the full attendance of the designer, grinned like the chesire cat. “Oh, you see... If I would be as megalomaniac as you and name a perfume 'God', then I would also try my best to find the matching image for the advertisement campaign, tu comprends? I mean I know how hard you are at picking. But I promise you, he is your man. Maybe in more than one way. He’s… trés magnifique, oui?” She added with a wink.  
And as if she hadn't just planned out this moment with every small step, she pulled out a card from her wallet, sliding it towards Crocodile. “This is the number of his agent. Like always, I have certain… connections, you know.”  
Crocodile mustered the card skeptically. “Which favor do I owe you by this?”  
Bon waved it away. “Oh, nothing this time, darling. The thought of how your ideas could form this young man are enough. It will certainly be... tres magnifique.”  
She closed her purse from where she had retrieved the card.  
“Oh, don’t make that worried face. I won’t lay you some bad egg into your nest, you know that.”  
The food came and Crocodile decided not to ask more questions but to believe his longtime friend.

 

“Paula, could you check something for me?”  
Paula turned around from her computer. “Sure, what is it?”  
Crocodile rustled around in his jacket to find the crumbled card Bon had given him at breakfast. He finally found it in his left breast pocket.  
“Find out who that person is, and more important: what his reputation is in our business.” He handled the card to her. Paula took a single look and her eyes widened.  
“You are joking.” She said flatly. “You don’t know Doflamingo Donquichotte?”  
The second time this day, Crocodile felt like he was left out from some big secret.  
“Do I have to?” he snarled back.   
Paula made a face as if he had just told her that flamingos were growing in his yard. “Sir, I know that you are not the biggest TV watcher on this world, let alone a great fan of the modern cinematic world, and believe me you do miss out there on some things-“  
“Yeah, yeah we had that talk already, I get it. What is your point?”  
Paula crouched her nose. “That man won the best male actor category Oscar at only 23 years. You know, those Oscars last months which you refused to watch diligently. He is one of the youngest actors for this trophy in world history. Oh God, Crocodile, it was all over the newspapers!”   
Crocodile tried to find the piece of enthusiasm he was obviously lacking for this kind of news. “So what? Everybody who isn’t an imbecile idiot knows that the Oscars are the most arrogant way to measure an actors’ skills. It’s a business built on money, and money gets the hands of those man going who type down the names of the winners.”  
He sat down in his chair and lit himself a cigar from his table.  
“Money is the only thing that counts. With money alone I could get myself in some movie, make the costumes and win an Oscar for that.”  
“Oh?” Paula mused. “Then, why don’t you just do it?” She said in a light mocking tone. Crocodile knew that years ago she wouldn’t have dared to talk to him like that. But she had proven herself more than reliable to him, both as a secretary and as a friend.  
And then there had been that case in London, where had learned to never ever fuck with Paula Doublefinger. London had taught him many new things.  
He sighed. “Because 99% of all actors are a fucking tiresome bunch of clowns. Working with them is like babysitting a crowd of little snotty lords. Their whole sense of beauty for the fashion world doesn’t even fill the tip of my pinky.”  
“Wise words.” Paula snorted.  
“Watch your mouth.” Crocodile countered rather less seriously.  
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. How about we make a deal, huh?” She got up from her chair and leaned over his office desk, the card in her hand. “I will find out every little dirty secret Doflamingo has for you. And in return, you are going to watch the movie he won the Oscar for with me. Deal or deal?”  
Crocodile let out an even deeper sigh. “Is there the option of no deal?”  
“No.”  
Sighing.

 

The only purpose of Crocodiles TV was to be a dusty accessory in his apartment and watching Fashion shows on the only TV station he was able to find with the controller.   
Sometimes, after a successful show of his own, he also would treat himself with an old horror movie.  
So when Paula came over on the weekend, his struggle already started with trying to find out how to use the controller to get to other TV channels. Paula had asked him to watch the 8 o’clock news, apparently there would be a small coverage about the actor. ‘As a little pre-information for the movie!’ as she had suggested.  
8 o’clock came and the fucking controller still didn’t do as Crocodile wanted it to. He cursed a few times, nearly ready to throw the damn thing out of the window, when the bell rang.  
With two full bags, Paula stood in the doorway and entered. “Good evening boss! I have the movie with me. Is the news on?”  
Crocodile didn’t even deem the possibility to give her an answer. He took one of the bags from her hands and accompanied her to the kitchen.  
“What’s inside those?” HE asked while talking a look.  
Paula already started to unpacking one of the brown paper bags. “Chips, Wine…. Cookies and some chocolate. And other sweets and unhealthy stuff.”  
Crocodile blinked a few times, holding a huge snicker bar in his hands and throwing questioning looks towards Paula.  
“What?” she asked, apparently irritated. “I thought we’re doing a movie night right? That means junk food and in our case alcohol. Here, hold the brandy”, she walked to the overhead cupboards searching something. “Where do you have the brandy glasses?”  
Sighing, Crocodile came to term with his own fate for the evening.  
Like said: one did not fuck with Paula Doublefinger when she took the wheel.

Three snicker bars, two glasses of brandy and lazy jogging pants later, the ads on the VHS cassette came to an end and the movie was about to start.  
Suddenly it came to Crocodiles mind that he hadn’t even asked what the movie was about. While the theme music of the movie started to play over a sunrise somewhere in the mountains he let his arm search for the Cover of the cassette which he deemed somewhere on the table beside him. His arm to short to reach and his body to lazy to move (blame the jogging pants) he killed the idea.  
HE considered asking Paula, but her mouth was already puffed out with what seemed a one-week stash of marshmallows. Crocodile didn’t want to risk scratching that out of his carpet.  
“Fe Wofy ish ely oof”, Paula babbled with the sugary mess in her mouth.  
“… Yes.” Crocodile only answered, trying to get into the mood for two and a half hours of drama.  
Snow-covered mountain tips were showing, then green fields, stone covered tundra and the endless sand sea of a desert. The camera seemed to follow a path, here and there some human on it while the names of the actors appeared on the screen.  
“Viola Dressrosa” he read with the screen, “she played in the movie?” The daughter of the Dressrosa foundation was one of Crocodiles earlier contacts when he had been in need of funds and sponsors for one of his first shows.  
“’Courshe” Paula replied, her mouth only half-full this time. “She wash alsho nominated but didn’t win.” She held the marshmallows towards Crocodile, rustling the bag in a questioning manner.  
Crocodile grabbed a handful with a nodded thanks. For second he rolled the white tread between his fingers, considering the amounts of sugar he would pump into his system this evening.  
With a sigh (he sighed very often. Paula was convinced he would die with a sigh as his last words.) he put the Marshmallow in his mouth. He had decided to give the control of this’ evenings pace to Paula so no nagging now.  
With a dramatic collective of horns, the title blended in.

**LOVE AND A THOUSAND STARS**

Crocodile nearly choked on his marshmallow. Paula patted his back.  
“Romance?!” he wheezed out between coughs.   
“No watch, no nag.” She replied with a steady face. Suddenly she lashed forward, “THERE!!! THAT’S HIM THAT THAT THAT THAT!!!!!!”  
Because by the time they had finally found the news channels the coverage of Mister Donquichotte had been already over, Crocodile hadn’t had a chance to see the man’s face.  
So now when his eyes moved to the screen, he had mixed feeling about his own expectations. Bon’s words fell into his mind: they wouldn’t lay a bad egg into his nest.   
Right?  
First, he noticed the height of the man who was walking in several layers of clothes and robes through a forest. If Crocodile would try to compare him than at he would be at least half a head taller than he himself – and Crocodile was already a tall man. Donquichotte would surely be somewhere near the two-meter-mark.  
The blond hair and the blue eyes which were shown on the close ups were a clear contrast to the dark skin, witness of a constant life under the sun.   
His facial futures were hard and pointy, almost intrusive, as Crocodile would feel if meeting someone as that man.  
He tried to get a whole mental concept of the man in the first few minutes were he wandered the forest, but somehow no clear picture formed in his mind.  
Onscreen, the sun slowly pierced through the thick crowns, companied by the twittering of birds. Donquichotte stepped out onto a clearing to a little pond in the middle of it.   
Slowly, silver shining dots rose from the water, forming a helix structure as Donquichotte’s character came near to the pond.  
Suddenly a voice started to narrate.

_“For the longest time I have been in this world.  
I have seen kingdoms rise and civilizations fall.  
They call me  
MAGNUS.”_

A shiver ran down Crocodiles spine.   
“Is that his voice?” he whispered to Paula, afraid he would miss a word.  
“Yeeeeeeeesss.” She grinned back at him.  
Something stirred inside Crocodile. That voice was dangerously hypnotizing.  
The sparkles started to twirl around Magnus and just for a moment his clothes disappeared and he stretched his arms out.  
Crocodiles eyes widened.

_‘He’s trés magnifique, oui?’_

“Yeah” Crocodile answered the question in his head unconsciously.  
“What?” Paula asked.  
But Crocodile didn’t notice, transfixed by the wonder that was showing itself on the screen.

 

The movie was over and Crocodile let a regretting gaze fly over the coffee table in his living room. He would have to make a three days long morning jog to burn of the calories he had shove into himself during the movie, too busy to treat his eyes with the image of more than once naked Doflamingo Donquichotte.  
Paula was sitting on his couch with a tear and snot stained face.  
“Id… Id was so goooooooooooooood.” She sobbed out as the end credits rolled out.   
Crocodile blinked a few times at her. He still felt like he was trapped in the plot of the movie including the enchanting figure that was the actor Donquichotte.  
Bon hadn’t lied. The man was an enigma and more than worth the Oscar he had won.  
Even if the plot had been more than questionable at some points for him.  
“I still don’t get why he didn’t stay with her at the end. I mean they were in love, right?” he referred to the scene where Donquichotte’s character left Violas at the end to stay an immortal wanderer instead of becoming her mortal husband.  
Paula looked at him as if he had offended her ancestors. “That’s because he knew it would be bad for her! I mean you have seen the fight against the Varupa at the end, their whole life would be like that! It wouldn’t to her any favor, if he stayed with her! Instead he chose to protect her by leaving her.”  
Crocodile nodded only.   
Donquichotte’s sad smile fell into his head. Magnus had held Felitias (Violas) Hands in his, his eyes sparkling like a million suns, tear filled smile on his lips.

_‘The universe is so big.  
It holds enough happiness for every single one of us.’_

_A gentle kiss on Felitias’ hands._

_‘Even for me?’ her voice not more than a whisper._

_**‘Even for you.’** _

Remembering the scene made the corners of his eyes itch. It really had been beautiful, the music and the setting.   
Paula stood up, stretching her limbs. “Oh god.” She mumbled, and stretched her face with her hands. “I’m going to the bathroom to wash my face.”  
“Do that.” Crocodile yawned. The image of the sad smile didn’t leave his head.  
Funny, he had thought that the sex scene would be impregnated harder in his head, after all he had seen sex on two legs in all his naked glory.  
But then again, he had witnessed the filming of a movie sex scene one time, and it had been the most unerotic thing ever – since that time he deemed them rather unnecessary in movies.  
Munching on a mon cherí he closed his eyes listening to the credit music.  
He noticed how sleepy he was.  
From the bathroom came the faint noise of water splashing into the sink.  
Donquichotte’s sad smile rewound in his head…

**Even for you.**

 

Crocodile loved Sundays.   
Sundays were reserved for his mother and family. It was also the only day in the week where he wasn’t working ten hours a day.   
His driver, Mr. Zero, came to pick him up in the morning.   
Mr. Zero wasn’t of course his real name. In realty the 2-Meter-tall Nigerian was called Daz Bones, and one of the small circle of persons Crocodile could call his friends (outside from his family – but that was a special matter). In fact, he Paula and Bon were his only friends in his business life.   
The fake surname was the result of the same events in London where Paula had wrecked business, and somehow it had stuck with all of them and now Daz was always called Mr. Zero.  
At his mother’s residence he gave his driver a note to pick him up in the evening again.   
On his way to the entrance door he looked at the old English castle-like building, which was his Ivana’s home.   
It had been his first present to her after his career had finally hit the gas pedal. Getting her out of that old apartment of his father where she had been emotionally stuck going forth and back, he had gotten her this luxury mansion as a thank you for everything she had done for him.  
The door was already open and he could hear happy chattering from the inside.   
Coming to his mother’s house always felt like a warm and relaxing embrace. She had asked him if he wanted to live here with her, but he had insisted on having his own house, if only to have his sacred silence. After all he knew in how much turmoil his mother’s house could get.  
“Crocodile, is that you dear?” Ivana’s voice rumbled through the corridor.  
“IT’S CROC!!!” were the next squeals, and around the corner of the living room a boy came dashing with high speed and leaped into Crocodiles arms, who caught him.  
“Well if it isn’t Luffy.” He grinned and ruffled the boy’s black hair. “Where are your bothers? And where’s Dadan?” Crocodile entered the living room, where his mother sat in her favorite spot on the sofa and her best friend Inazuma opposite her. “Dunno. Run away.” Luffy answered picking his nose.  
“Stop that, or you’ll get bald.” Crocodile reprimanded him.  
Luffy’s eyes widened with shock and he touched his hair in fear.  
“Darling! You came! How wonderful.” His mother waved him in her direction and Crocodile followed, kissing her hand as a greeting, holding Luffy with the other.  
“Aaaah~ Look, he treats me like a princess!” Ivana squealed towards Inazuma, who gave a warm nod towards Crocodile. “How’s work?” Inazuma asked with her deep voice, patting the white part of her color split hair.  
“Did you bring something for me?!” Luffy quacked as he tried to climb up the designer’s chest and on his head.   
Crocodile wanted to answer when suddenly his legs were tackled.   
“CROCO!!!” Blond hair looked up from his left and black one from his right leg.   
“You were on the news!!” The blonde boy, Sabo shouted.  
“You looked so cool!” The black-haired, Ace added to that.  
Both their eyes were blinking up to him.  
Crocodile tried not to show how much those little raccoons were melting his heart. He put Luffy on his shoulders and grabbed the boys from his legs onto his arms.  
“Really, have I been?” he asked grinning. “Yeah, yeah!” Luffy babbled, patting the hair on his head.  
“LUFFY!!! ACE!!! SABO!!!!! WHERE THE GODDAMN HELL ARE YOU VANDALISTS?!?!?!” Dadan’s voice shouted through the mansion.  
The boys gave a shocked look and hurried down from Crocodile to hide behind his legs.  
Through the terrace entrance, Dadan was coming in, fuming in anger until she saw Crocodile.  
“Oh, hello, Crocsy! Have you seen the boys?” From her angle, Crocodile was staying behind the sofa which didn’t allow her to see the poorly hidden boys behind him.  
Inazuma and Ivana where silently watching the scenario with an almost obvious smile on their lips.   
“Well… I don’t know where the boys are. I haven’t seen them. You, ladies?” he gave the question to his mother.  
“I absolutely don’t know.”  
“Second that.”  
“Well then,” Crocodile clapped his hands, “I can’t help you Dadan, but first, come here and let me greet you.” The boys gave him a horrified look when Dadan accepted the offer and came around the couch – and saw the boys.   
“YOU!!!!” She shouted and faster than lighting the trio was out of the room and hopping out throw the open kitchen window.   
Dadan opened her mouth again to shout and run after the boys, but Crocodile already had her hands in his and kissing her cheeks for greeting.  
This was his little hidden private side, that no one in the business world beside his above mentioned friends knew. His quirky and big family, which had mostly nothing to do with the blood bonds he despised so much.   
Dadan’s boys were adopted and together with Inazuma he saw the two women like his aunts. Along with this big mansion he had given his mother the possibility to house all members of their family and had surrounded her with a happiness he had never seen before in his mother. Especially Dadan’s boys added to the mix, bringing new live and entertainment into the house just by watching them.  
“Don’t be so upset over them. It gives unnecessary wrinkles to your beautiful face.” Crocodile charmed his aunt.  
Dadan blushed. “Oh, Crocsy, you charming man.” She laughed and patted his shoulder.   
“How’s work?”  
Crocodile guided her to the couch and sat down with her. “Ah the question came up already. Well, I’m doing fine… mostly.”  
His mind wandered to the perfume and inevitably to a blond actor with a forbiddingly good-looking six pack.   
“We make… progress.” He vaguely answered.  
“Ohoh?” his mother perked up. Inazuma also seemed to lean in a bit more into his direction.  
“Croco-boy, I hear that undertone in your voice. Don’t you try hiding something from me.” Heaving her feet on the couch, Ivana sprawled herself like on an ottoman and gave him an expecting look.  
“I… MAYBE have found a model.”  
Dadan gasped. “Really? Well fucking finally. At least that is solved than. Who’s the happy man?”  
The words had a dangerous direction for Crocodiles taste.  
Also his mother and Inazuma gave him predatory looks. Had he missed on something?  
“Uh… MAYBE. Maybe. Doflamingo Donquichotte.”  
Chaos ensued. His mother threw her hand on her forehead, giving the most dramatic sigh in world history – now at least he knew where had that quirk from – while Inazuma was covering her mouth with her hands, gasping like in shock and Dadan looked at him as if her eyes gauged out of their sockets.  
“Okay, ladies, you are scaring me.”  
“Doflamingo Donquichotte.” Inazuma murmured. “Well, what a man. What a choice.”  
Crocodile felt like the whole world had been sharing a secret and not letting him in.  
“Okay, I know he’s great and stuff, but-“  
“Great?” his mother croaked and stared at him. “Darling, have you seen his muscles? Have you seen his face? That piece of ass makes me wish I was born younger.”  
“Thanks mom. I didn’t need the visual.”  
“Doflamingo…” Dadan repeated in a dreamy voice.  
Crocodile swore to himself to watch more TV in the future. He stared into the round of enchanted woman, and only a name was able to do that. Crocodile was fascinated and apalled at the same time. Would he also end up like that upon meeting the man the first time?  
(Well technically, he already had after watching the movie but his inner life and his controlled outer shell were two different things, right? Right?)  
“Well, my son.” Ivana stood up and fixed her dress. “I approve of that man a one hundred percent. You have my blessing.” She patted his shoulder and went to the Bar to mix herself a drink. “Ina-darling, what can I bring you?”  
“Mojito! And you have my blessings too, Crocs.”  
“I am not marrying him – he will be my model! And anyway, how did the idea even get into your head that I had such motives?!”  
Dadan took his hands reassuringly in hers and patted them. “A good choice, my boy.”  
Crocodile looked at the three woman smiling at him as if he had told them he was pregnant. His mom came back from the bar and placed a glass of brandy in his hand.  
“Darling, don’t take it to serious. We simply thought that it must be someone very~ special for you, if you let him be the face of such a special and personal happening. Take it as some old ladies spinning some scenarios for their dense son.”  
Crocodile sighed. “I’m not dense.” He murmured.  
“And also, I don’t even know the man. I only saw his latest movie with Paula and well. It was Bons recommendation. I think I’m just grasping after straws, since the clock’s ticking. And MOST IMPORTANTLY” he gave a heavy stare into the family round, “I haven’t still decided if it’s going to be him, he’s only a possibility. There’s still a lot to think on.”  
Ivana sat down again, giving Inazuma her Mojito. Through the glass wall of the terrace the sunlight came through a cloud. The boy’s laughter rode on the breeze.  
“If a movie is enough to make such an impression of him to you that you are willing to even see him as a possibility, then I guess he’s more than your man.” Ivana mused.  
Inazuma nodded. “But it’s good that you’re still careful.”  
Dadan patted his hands again. “You will make a good choice.” Crocodile stared into the female round and although he felt like being pushed into all this, he could feel the great support he was getting again each and every time he came here.   
He loved Sundays.

He returned late that evening, chatting with the ladies about their work. Apparently Inazuma had become the possibility to turn one of her books into a movie. Crocodile had to promise her to come to the premiere when it would be done.  
Dadan in return had promised to come over tomorrow to clean up the house. Crocodile had thanked her, even if it was her job.  
At home, he found a pile of documents on his work desk as well as a little note attached to it. 

_‘These are all the information I found until now.  
I got in contact with his agent.  
Appointment? When? Call me._

_XXX Paula’_

Crocodile decided to do that, but not tonight. He still wanted one night to sleep over his decision. Tomorrow he would tell Paula about it.


	2. II

Crocodile believed that it was certainly no secret that he was (mostly) gay. In contrast to the rest of the world of glamour and beauty it almost seemed required of male designers to be homosexual. Not that Crocodile had chosen his sexual orientation along with his career choice. He had found out about his tendencies somewhere along his teenage years.  
His first time had been a threesome with a girl and a guy he had known from the underground scene of Florida, back when he had still been travelling the world with his mom. The escaping to check out the city had soon changed into escaping to party all night in dubious establishments.  
‘Viper and Laki.’ He was surprised that he still knew their names. They had been an open couple, ready to try out nearly everything, no matter if it had been about sex or drugs. They had been living the wild and short life, and somewhere along, Crocodile had been squished into their life and their bed for a few nights. Most of it was a haze of Weed, Sex and Alcohol.   
Viper hadn’t been very talkative but all the more gentle in bed. His hands had held Crocodile safe and secure while he had fucked in a slow and fulfilling pace into him, his trembling hips all the while locked by Laki’s beautiful long legs, holding him in place with his cock inside her warm and wet cunt. Thinking back, she had been the only girl he had ever felt pleasure for. Her beautiful boobs, dark nipples bobbing up and down with every trust; calm and sensual words dripping from her sinful lips, her eyes dark and promising – the whole mix had stirred a hunger in him, which she had known more than better to satisfy. Sex always hadn’t been just sex with her – it had been more like a religious experience. (Maybe that was just the influence of the Weed Crocodile had smoked back then in masses, but who knows.)  
Viper had been a good lover in his own special way. Silent touches asking for consent for every little action. Deep moans in his ear when he had been cumming inside him.   
Later Crocodile had found out, that a lot of his following one-night-stands had a strange resemblance to Viper.  
Laki however had been the only female exception in bed partners, Crocodile had ever made, and he was sure – if he should ever meet her again, and the circumstances would throw them together into a bed, he wouldn’t say no to her.   
Laki simply was the minus one to his usual six on the Kinsey Scale. 

 

 

\- Rome 1999 – 

Artista Gala.  
One of the biggest happenings in the world of Culture, Art and Design. Held in the beating heart of artistic culture and innovation: Milano, Borsalino Residence.  
With a bunch of nostalgic memories Crocodile left the airplane and looked into the last sunrays of the day falling on the vibrating asphalt of the airport in Rome.   
He had decided against going directly to Milano in favor of spending a few days in his vacation apartment in the outer ring of the city.  
Spring was in full bloom here and Crocodile was excited to spend a few nights on the balcony of his apartment with Paula, drinking good wine and munching bread dipped in the olive oil his neighbor, and old farmer, made himself. 

As they reached the apartment with their local driver, Paula was quick to remind him, that they didn’t come here for vacation.   
“Tomorrow comes the Reporter from the ‘l’uomo vague’ at 11 am for the interview. After that, we have a dinner with Mister Amani, he wants specially to know about your well-being, best fake-smile will be required.”  
Crocodile groaned. “Do I really have to meet up with that old man? He constantly likes to remind me of my father.”  
Paula stopped unpacking her case and looked at him in thought. “You have to stick with him until dessert, I’m afraid… If it helps you, I can send you Amani-insulting texts under the table. Or I can fake a headache. And my period. And that I’m pregnant.”  
Crocodile considered for a moment to really take her offer. He was pretty confident Paula could and would pull that one off.  
After unpacking, they took their possibly only free evening to get to Crocodiles anticipated favorite activity.  
The balcony had a perfect view over the geographic cauldron in which Rome lied.   
Paula looked through her Ipad, checking their schedule for the next week.  
“Oh.”   
“What?”  
Paula looked up from the tablet. “We both have totally forgotten… Donquichotte! You still haven’t told me your choice regarding an appointment.”  
Crocodile nodded. “Yeah… right.”  
He had somehow managed to avoid that topic. Despite having slept a night over it, the next morning he still hadn’t known, if he should or not. The opportunity simply seemed too good to be true, and Crocodile was somehow convinced that something was just too easy in this whole matter.  
That had been three days ago.  
“So?”  
Paula still waited for her answer.  
Crocodile took a deeper sip from his glass, trying to stretch out the decision a bit more. He knew he hadn’t any more time to search for someone and he was aware that he was his biggest enemy in the whole case with his pickiness.  
“… Just… just give me another week. Okay?”  
Paula couldn’t seem to stop the smile on her lips.  
“If you wish, boss. But believe me, you won’t find a better choice for this.” She assured him and started typing the reminder in her calendar.  
Crocodile wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe all the people who had encouraged him, that this – that DOFLAMINGO was a good choice, the best apparently. So why did it feel so weird in his gut? Why did he hesitate so much with the decision?

 

The appointments of the whole week before the starting of the Gala including the evening dinner with Mister Amani were a hassle to Crocodiles patience. Especially the old colleague of his father who wouldn’t stop praising that two-timing, self-glorifying bastard and tell Crocodile to get into his steps.   
Then of course the shower of negative side comments about his sexuality and his “flamboyant” job. Crocodile had had the constant need to hurl or to slap Amani across his sickly smiling face.   
Even Crocodiles self-assurance about his success and his rise of fame hadn’t been enough to make him feel a tad of superiority above Amani – the man may be an arrogant asshole, but his renomé still stood above that of Crocodiles.  
The day of the Gala arrived earlier than was to Crocodiles liking. Paula ushered him out of bed early in the morning to get ready for the social pre-ritual to the Gala: long breakfast in the palazzo with some of his colleagues of the Lion’s Club, then leading to coffee and champagne on the sky roof of the palazzo. Afterwards a quick skip back to home to change into evening dresses and then with the airplane directly to Milano.

As always the breakfast at the palazzo was delicious and of highest quality. Crocodile enjoyed the Italian cuisine and ordered himself even a bit more on his plate than he was used to. Paula made a little remark on his suddenly awoken appetite, but she had good talk as Crocodile listened to her order, which was a t least 50 percent more of his amount.  
He shared a table with some acquaintances of his, under them the Chinese Top Model and Mrs. Universe Boa Hancock and the Romanian Artist Gecko Moria.  
“By the way, have you heard of Jimbei?” Moria asked, filling himself far too much wine into his glass.   
“I heard he retired due to his health.” Boa answered, having a look of distain at the nearly overflowing red liquid.  
Crocodile took the bottle out of Morias Hand, who just gave him a disgruntled “eh” back. He thought about the Japanese author of poetry and prose. “I had a phone call with him a few months ago, where he said that he wants to go back to Japan. Apparently he’s sick of the world and the people in the USA.” Inside himself Crocodile could somehow relate to that.  
“Oh man, what a wimp” Moria sighed and took a huge sip out of his glass. “Can’t believe he’s such a sissy. Well but I guess that’s a typical Asian treat, right.”  
Boa gave him a light sidekick under the table. “I can frelate to him. It’s disgusting how his traditional work is treated here by these ordinary… men.”  
Paula laughed at her comment. “Well, at least you seem to find something in these men here at our table, for you are willing to spend time in our company, right?”  
“Well, regarding that one is a manlover” Crocodile shot her a deadly look, “and the other an alcoholic” Moria gave a disappointed “Hey!” from himself upon taking another sip, “at least their honorable enough to reassure me of my beauty and greatness everywhere I go without treating me as a nice plaything at their side.”  
“And sure, you will include me in that list, right?”  
Another man appeared behind Boa, a hand on her shoulder. “Mihawk! Well if you aren’t late to the party!” Moria cackled unashamedly.   
“I excuse myself for my indisposedness. I will look to find a way of apology for that. Madame Hancock.” He bowed slightly and gave her hand a kiss.  
“Dracule, stop acting like a cheap romance figure.” Boa reprimanded him, but her little blush on her cheeks along with her smile were easy noticed by the rest of the company.  
“Well, I simply follow the etiquette. Crocodile, my friend. I see your name on quite a lot magazines recently.” He moved on shaking Crocodiles hand. “As I see, you are making yourself a name.”  
Mihawk was a multitalent of anything. Not only was he a master of traditional fencing, acknowledged worldwide by the sports branch, he also had his own label and on top modelled for some top brands already. Not to forget he was an exquisite musician with his acoustic guitar.  
And while his name alone was already worth several millions, he still managed to maintain an aura of dignity around himself with his barely 21 years.  
“It’s nice to see you Dracule. How is your fencing doing?”   
Mihawk took a seat at their table and ordered his menu. “Well, quite good. I won the International Championship in Berlin this year, so I guess I can finally call myself the world’s greatest fencer. Although it would be a shame and an overstatement if that was true. In the end, there will always stand someone younger behind you ready to push you off the stairs.”   
Crocodile had a knack for Mihawks way of speaking. He could listen to him all day. It was an aesthetic appreciation of the whole picture that Dracule Mihawk was. He had even played with the thought of making this man the face of his campaign, but Mihawk was more the type of a dark assassin than of a pompous god.  
“Then you have my congratulations.”  
Boa congratulated him, too. “I’ve seen it on TV. Oh, Crocodile, it looked beautiful. The last round especially, what grace. Of course not as much as me.” She chuckled.  
“That’s no one going to deny you here.” Paula said, and Moria nodded appreciatively.

They moved to the sky bar at midday and Crocodile took the opportunity to ask an outsider, who was more informed in the world than himself, about his latest enigma.   
Standing with Mihawk and Boa at the balustrade of the terrace with champagne in their hands, he touched the subject. “What is your opinion on Doflamingo Donquichotte?”  
Boa laid her head on the side. “Donquichotte? Oh, yes, I met him at the Oscars. An eccentric gentleman on the outside if you ask me. He reduces your personal space to nothing in seconds, and afterwards you hate yourself of how much you let him inside you. On a metaphorical level, of course.” She added hurriedly.  
Mihawk gave a confirming nod. “He was on an art exhibition where I accompanied a friend. You could say he has quite the unnerving side on him. A predator, finding a way in your thoughts and gently shoving all your walls of security aside.”  
Crocodile thought that a shiver was running down his back at that description.   
‘Dangerous.’ He thought to himself.  
“Why do you ask?” Boa wanted to know.  
“My campaign on the perfume. I need as much opinions about him as I can get, to know if he can be the face of the campaign.”  
Boa lifted an eyebrow. “Well, it’s certainly an excellent choice. Just keep your relationship solely on work, or you’ll get eaten up by him. I mean, not that you would mind, in a physical way, but I mean over here.” She tapped her temple with her fingertips.  
“I wonder how he will react to you, if you get to know each other. But Boa is right, stay alert. You may think he invests just the same in the emotional bond he is forming with you, but in reality he could also do nothing while you are falling deeper and deeper into his net.” Mihawk added.  
This time, Crocodile shivered for real at the warning.

 

The artista gala started officially at 8 pm in the evening. There was a great program, with many international stars, a donation campaign, an art auction and other things.  
Crocodile walked down the red carpet, Paula at his side, in a forest green costume. “Thanks for not putting me in a dress.” She chuckled as they posed for a bunch of photographers in front of the label wall.   
“A dress does your body and type no justice.” Crocodile simply replied. “The discomfort you would feel in one would instantly translate in your posture. You can put the greatest dress with the most expensive material on the most beautiful model – if she doesn’t feel good in it, it’s a worthless rag.”  
Crocodile went answering a few questions of the photographers.  
Afterwards he escorted Paula in the ballroom hall of the Victorian Residence where the cocktail reception was held. A speech of the host would follow later.  
Inside he could already sport Boa with Mihawk at their side. When she caught his glance she started to make a hurried gesture that he should come to her.  
“What does she want?” Paula asked Crocodile who shrugged his shoulders, and went to Boa who seemed distressed.   
When he reached her, she instantly grabbed his arm. She took a quick look around and then proceeded to speak: “He’s here!”  
“Who?!” Paula and Crocodile asked simultaneously.  
“Doflamingo Donquichotte.” Mihawk answered at her side. His manner was more calm, but his eyes also seemed to scan the room permanently.   
“Okay, just a moment: can you all tell me, why your minds get out of hand, when it’s about that young brat?! HE can’t be THAT great!” Crocodile hissed. He slowly grew tired how everyone made a fucking legend out of a fucking youngster of 23 years, and how he himself even started to get wrapped up in that hype.  
He even caught himself throwing glances into the room to get a look at the mystery man.  
“SIGNORE E SIGNORI!” A voice boosted from the great gallery on the end of the room where staircase lead up to. The room became a bit darker and a single light was shining on the person arriving at the balustrade of the upper floor.   
Signore Vicente Borsalino was an Italian aristocrat whose greatest hobby were big parties and fine arts. 15 years ago he had combined those two things and had held the first artista gala to connect people of all art branches and give a stage to young and aspiring artists as well as collecting donations for projects supporting art.  
He was a relaxed man in typical mafia clothes, and not once have people murmured about his connections to the underground.  
“I welcome you all to this grand little Gala of mine. This year will remark the 15th artista gala, and I am more than happy to see how it grew and blossomed over the years.”  
Applause followed the man.  
Borsalino continued on the tradition of the gala and how important such get-togethers of the big names in the art and culture world were to keep connections and other stuff.  
Crocodile started to only listen with one ear after a while. He caught himself again and again looking through the crowd of faces which listened to the honorable man on the gallery, if he maybe could find a glance of the infamous actor.  
Instead his glance caught someone different.  
The reflection of the light which lightened Borsalino fell on raven black hair, styled into a classic updo, decorated by red flowers. The person was a female of Asian ethnicity, tall and fragile like an angel. Her dress was the same red as the flowers in her hair and Crocodile couldn’t get rid of the feeling of knowing that person.  
Suddenly applause again. Crocodile hadn’t noticed that Borsalino was finished with his speech.  
“What keeps you so enchanted?” Paula asked at his side, seeing his irritated look.   
Crocodile, knowing well that hiding something from Paula was useless, indulged her in his curiosity: “The women over there, with the red dress. Do you know her?”  
Paula looked into the direction Crocodile was subtly showing her.   
“Oh… well I have to say I’m out. Boa?” she tipped at the shoulder of the Model gave some last few claps and proceeded to link arms with Mihawk. “Do you know the Asian women in the red dress there?”  
Boa looked at her. “What, just because I am Asian?” She asked entertained by her own comment.  
Paula put up her hands in an apologizing manner.  
“Hm. Well, surprisingly I really know her. She’s a British Opera Singer with Japanese roots, but she lives in the USA since her early teenage years. Tsuru Bennings is her full name I think.”  
“Isn’t Sengoku Bennings her brother? The Police Commissioner of the NYPD?” Mihawk asked.  
“That is her brother?” Paula seemed to be linked back into the topic. “But Bennings was born in the USA right? I can’t imagine those tied up police patriarchs would’ve someone make Commissioner who’s not ‘fully American’.” She crocked her index and middle fingers at the ironic term.  
Mihawk shook his head. “I have an old friend in the police forces who told me that Bennings and his sister were adopted as orphans to Britain, but their parents had a dual citizenship: British and American, so it was easy to get their adopted children the same luxury.”  
Boa looked back to Crocodile. “there you have it. A British-American Opera singer with Japanese roots. But why were you asking anyway?”  
“Excuse me for a moment.” With that, Crocodile left his irritated group.

Miss Tsuru was even more beautiful when Crocodile stood in front of her.   
She had recognized him instantly, saying she was a fan of a few of his robes (and Crocodile had felt very flattered by that). She looked very young from afar, but from the small distance he had in the light conversation he had with her now, he could see her wrinkles.   
“Miss Tsuru, I am afraid, that I seemingly have missed one of your performances until now. It would be an utter pleasure if I could catch up with this omission in the future.”  
Tsuru chuckled lightly. “I am 45 years old. The stages grow smaller, once you hit the 30ties.” She gave him subtly to understand, and Crocodile was fascinated, because he had opted her to be at least 10 years younger. “But you can consider yourself lucky, since Signore Borsalini was so kind to grant me the chance to perform again tonight.”   
Crocodile bowed slightly. “Then I am very delighted and look forward to it tonight.”  
Tsuru also bowed down. “You should. It’s my favorite piece of my younger days: Habanero from Carmen. You know the piece?”  
“Unfortunately not.” Crocodile had to admit.  
“Well, that shall be no problem. I hope I can enchant you either way.” With a little bow of her head she wanted to bid her goodbyes, but Crocodile had one last question that had been the reason he was talking to her.  
“Miss Tsuru – have we, possibly, met before somewhere?”  
Tsuru gave him a long look. “Hm… Not that I remember. I had been in Spain for a long time. Maybe there?”  
Crocodile shook his head. “I don’t really remember myself. I had been jet setting quite a lot as a child and teenager.”  
“Well, then. See you later, Mister Emporio.”  
With that, she vanished again in the crowd of the celebrities.

 

The rest of the gala was mainly chatting with old acquaintances and making new.   
When the announcement of Tsuru in the theatre hall came through, Crocodile and Paula made their way to their seats which Crocodile had reserved beforehand.  
As he sat down he suddenly heard faint laughter of a row more in the front. Somehow that laughter gave him a pleasant feeling and he wanted to look down and see where it came from, but then the theatre became dark and Tsuru came on the stage. He could see nothing in the rows of spectators.

The song started and Crocodile felt at the first tunes as if a hand gripped his heart tight in his chest.   
Combined with Tsuru’s voice it was as if he was pulled into a vortex, which pulled him deeper and deeper into an old memory of his far away past. Somehow he thought he could smell something damp and cold, like being in underground catacombs.   
But the pictures he expected to complete the memory were out of his grasp and he listened to the song with an unnerving feeling of lacking something.  
Again his eyes fell on the spectators in the theatre which slowly gained contours in his vision.   
Down in the second row at the very end a tall man standing up and leaving through a side exit caught his vision. Just as he was out, Crocodile knew who the man was: Doflamingo Donquichotte.  
The designer didn’t know which strange idea was befalling him, but he knew he HAD to follow the actor, alone to finally get the net of wild opinions he got over the man out of his system. He apologized himself from Paula and got up from his seat and followed the path to the same exit which the actor had taken.  
At last he would finally see him.

Outside the floors were mostly empty, only some butlers here and there and some women and men chattering with a glass of champagne in their hands. Crocodile looked left and right to find the actor.

“Mister Emporio?”  
That was it. That was his voice. Crocodile turned around.   
Donquichotte Doflamingo stood right behind him, stretching his hand out. His eyes were only slightly visible through the rose-colored pilot-sunglasses.  
“Ah… so you are Mister Donquichotte.”  
Crocodile tried to catch his psychical fall, but the warm hands, which instantly took both of his into their palms didn’t help at all. The grip was soft yet determined and Crocodile couldn’t find it in himself, to let go of them.  
Was this, what Mihawk and Boa had warned him beforehand?  
“Mister Emporio, I am delighted to finally meet you here. I already tried to get in touch with you at the fashion revue in Paris back in fall, but I failed to get close to you.”  
His voice was like a deep vibration reverberating low in Crocodiles whole body. Like balsam for the heart it poured down his ears.  
“You were in Paris?” It had been Crocodiles first show at the Revue, right after he had gotten his own label.  
Doflamingo nodded with an enthusiasm, that made him look like a little child. “Yes. I knew your designs from earlier when you worked for Madame Devon in France.”  
Crocodile tried to get the flattery by unnoticed, but he could already his palms getting warm.  
“Oh – I am sorry.” Doflamingo seemed to noticed and let go of his hands. Crocodile regretted it in an instant and wanted to slap himself at the same time for that emotion.  
Then, Doflamingo put down his shades, and for the first time Crocodile could get a look of those sparkling crystal eyes in reality. He decided that they were as dangerous as the man’s voice, as his hands, as his whole body and being, and god, if he just didn’t lie to himself at the same time.  
He wanted that man. And he was afraid, of how much he wanted him, and how he didn’t even know why and for what.

_For everything._

“So… I hope I don’t steal your time. You looked like you were searching for someone.”  
Crocodile snapped back into reality. “Oh! Oh. Well, technically yes, but now. Not anymore. Uhm, I mean the person. Is already, well, gone. Seems.” ‘Good job on that linguistic masterpiece’ Crocodile reprimanded himself.  
Doflamingo showed his white teeth with a beautiful delicate smile stretching on his lips. Suddenly were seemed a switch on his face.  
“Well then,” he continued, literally purring, “you won’t mind being in my company for a while, right? Let me show you a good time.”  
The atmosphere around them became dangerous and Crocodile could feel it. This young man in front of him was indeed, a predator. And if Crocodile hadn’t been warned beforehand and hadn’t such a good intuition about people he would’ve been trapped right now.   
He had been only a few minutes with the man, but he could feel what Mihawk had tried to put into words: Doflamingo was very good at presenting himself fast in a trustworthy and familiar picture towards oneself.  
Charming the people around him with his smile, his clear eyes and his clever chosen words.  
Crocodile knew those kind of people. In his youth he had to watch several times how his mother had been urged to play that charade to get connections and the people’s goodwill back.  
The memories of that time came playing back and in an instant, Crocodile backed away from Doflamingo.  
“I am very sorry, but I guess my time is limited as for today. But I will get my secretary to get in touch with you, for further appointments. If you would excuse me now. Mister Donquichotte.”  
He turned around and tried not to look back at Doflamingo’s reply.

He felt like a dear running away from a hunter.

 

The doorbell rang and Paula ran to the door to open it.  
“Mister Donquichotte! Thank you for coming. Mister Emporio is already waiting in his bureau.” Paula greeted the incoming guest in the entrance hall.   
Doflamingo Donquichotte was truly impressive, she thought. His height alone gave his appearance weight, but his looks surely accommodated his overwhelming presence.  
The decision to book him for the job had been made in an instant the night after the artista gala.

_“Make an appointment with Mister Donquichotte in four weeks.”  
The night air on the terrace over Rome was warm and cicadas were chirping in the background.  
“Oh, so you decided? You know you still have one da-“  
“Now. Make it now. Call his manager out of the bed, I don’t care. Make it clear, that I am not a person which likes to wait for pampered stars.”  
Paula shot him a look. His aggressiveness was something from earlier days, which hadn’t recurred often now that his position was safe.  
“I will. But not before you’re going to ensure me again that you really want this. I’m not going to let your name get ugly stains just because of some half drunken decision in the night.”  
Paula stood up and towered her boss. She knew very well that her intimidating form was the only factor to prove if Crocodile would stand for something in the next morning or not.  
He looked up at her. “Sorry for breaking into your sentence.” He apologized earnestly. “Please call Doflamingo’s manager. If any trouble should come up I will stand for it.”  
Paula gave a satisfied smile.  
“That sounds more convincing.”_

Strangely enough, when she had called the manager in the USA, there being at least 7 in the evening, he had instantly picked up the phone and even pushed her to get the appointment two weeks earlier.  
Paula had complied, but only if Doflamingo would arrive without his manager. Crocodile was more into face to face talk regarding business, not some troublesome manager sitting like a dog at their protégé’s side and quipping in wherever it was possible.

Doflamingo’s eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades, which he took down the moment he stepped into the mansion. His ice blue orbs came into view and with the whitest pair of teeth he gave her a greeting smile. “Thank you so much for welcoming me. I hope I don’t cause unnecessary trouble by scheduling the appointment so early already.”  
'Truly a young god... someone like that doesn’t need a guardian to get things down, huh.' Paula added to her thoughts. Her uncertainties from before were blown away – now she was glad, that she had talked her boss into picking the eccentric actor as their model, and that he had agreed so fast – even if it had a strange side taste.  
“Oh, no problem!” she caught herself back into the real world. “Mister Emporio is in his atelier upstairs. Please follow me.”  
Doflamingo stood in front of her, the smile on his lips only widening. “Well, then I will follow your lead... madame.” He took her hand gently and placed a kiss between her fingers, his lips barely touching her knuckles.  
Paula nodded only while trying to calm her beating heart. Still, something in her brain told her to stay attentive at the gesture, she only knew too well from her own boss.   
Hadn’t Mihawk talked about something in that direction?  
With another nod and a “Yeah, right”, she turned around, leading them upstairs to the gallery, where the glass doors to Crocodiles atelier were. She could already make him out behind the milky glasses, supposed to keep curious visitors at bay. Back when their relationship had still been at the beginning, Paula had learned the hard way, that her Boss didn't like to be disturbed during his work.

_“Out!” The scissors, still stuck in the wall beside her, vibrated from the force they were thrown with, like her bosses’ eyes, full of rage and still staring in an empty abyss._

Paula shook the memory away. This was then and that was now. They had sorted it out between them and laid down the rules. Marked the territories. Plus, he had received a harsh whipping from her side in London, which made all the things that had happened fair and square between them again.  
If anything, then in these days she wore the pants more often in their relationship then him.  
“This way, please.” she opened the massive glass door to the atelier. The last rays of the sunset greeted them, along with the vastness of the room filled with Mannequins, huge bolts of cloth and several working desks as well as two drawing desks.  
On the other side of the room, in front of the glass wall, was an oval coffee table with two comfy armchairs, which invited to sink into them and forget the stress of the day.  
And in one of them, Crocodile sat, cigar in one hand, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Paula wanted to announce the guest to her boss, but Doflamingo was already past her, almost rushing, to greet Crocodile. “Mister Emporio! I am glad to finally be able to meet you in person.”  
“Uh, boss-” she wanted to explain the unusual behavior which caught herself off guard, but Crocodile waved it away. His eyes seemed strangely enticed by their guest.  
“It's okay Paula. You can finish your work for today. We'll meet tomorrow, 9'o clock in the morning.” His voice seemed somehow far away, but Paula was sure that Doflamingo hadn’t noticed. It was a subtle nuance in his talking which she had become used to now over the years. ‘I am in control’.  
“Oh, yes. Okay.” Paula shook her head at Crocodiles sudden calmness. Under normal circumstances, he would have reduced the actor by one head by now for his blunt approach. If anything she was impressed how calm Crocodile handled the situation. And how he seemed as he had already been prepared for this action. Had Paula missed something?  
With a nod she bid her goodbye and left the atelier.

 

It was Sunday and Crocodile nearly jumped out of his skin, just to get into his mother’s house.  
If anyone knew how to deal with his current situation, then it was Ivana Emporiova, who exactly knew how people of her kind ticked.  
The house was open like always when he came. This time Paula was with him. He invited her from time to time, when she had no plans on Sunday and was in the mood to go somewhere. His mother thought very highly of his secretary and treated her like a daughter.  
Coming into the house he already got into Luffy-catching pose, but the boy didn’t appear around the corner.  
Wondering he followed Paula into the living room, where his mother sat with Inazuma and an unknown man on the couch.  
“Hello, Crocy! Paula, what a nice surprise to see you here, too.” Ivana stood up and hugged both of them.  
“Garp, this is my son, Crocodile. And here his lovely manager and secretary, Paula Doublefinger.”  
The man, Garp stood up and gave them both a steady handshake. “Hello! I’m Garp DeMonkey, Luffys’ and Ace’s Gramps!”  
“Hello Mr. Demonkey. Nice to see you here. So, were are your grandchildren?”  
Garp let out a heartily laugh. Crocodile decided that he liked the man, simply because he seemed the same easy-going as the little boys. Plus, it was a nice change from the vexed character of Doflamingo which had given him many headaches over the last days and weeks.  
“Haha, you can call me Garp! And I guess that little monsters are running away from me, because they found out that I want to take them camping.”  
Crocodile got down on the couch, Paula next to him.  
“Camping? You mean Boot camping, if anything!” Dadan came out of the kitchen, a plate with pastries in her hands. “Last time you took them to a camp they came back and slept through the whole day!”  
She placed the plate on the coffee table and noticed the new guests. “Crocsy! Oh and Paula! What a nice surprise that you came. I still have the apple tea you liked so much last time in the cupboard, want some?”  
She gave Paula a warm smile while she swatted Garps hands away from the pastry.  
“You have diabetes! So no pastries! I can get you some crackers, if you want.” she gnarled at him.  
“Oh Dadan, dear,” Ivana piped in “give that man one of those, they won’t kill him.”  
“That one I believe; he does a glorious job doing that on other occasions!”  
Crocodile raised an eyebrow.  
Garp grinned at him. “She means my work as a deputy commissioner.”  
“You are a police officer?” Crocodile asked.  
“Well why do you think that he has no time for his grandsons and only OCCASIONALLY drops in to take them to death trips?!” Dadan shouted from the kitchen where she had gone back make tea for Paula.  
With a kettle and a cup, she returned. “You and your son are both the same! Leaving your boys in my care plus Sabo who said son just picked up randomly and also got through you in my care. What do you think?! I can’t even replace their respective mother in heaven, and their father is constantly away! They at least need a father!”  
Ivana leaned slightly to Inazuma: “Well I never believed in that father figure bullshit, and mine came out just fine, right?”  
Inazuma almost spit out her wine laughing and Dadan barked at them to stop ridiculing her point.   
Crocodile excused himself before he got sucked in into that kind of conversation and went to search for the boys, who were apparently hiding.  
He figured that the safest guess was the tree house in the forest behind the house (a secret only he and Ivana knew about).  
On the way there he thought about his recent troublemaker number one and the conversation they had few days prior.

 

_He was eager to get Paula out of his atelier this time. He didn’t want her to get wind of the fact that he and Doflamingo had already met at the artista, forbid that she knew how he had let himself be swept away almost under the actor’s pace.  
And now again. The fast pace at which Doflamingo screwed himself into his personal space was frightening.  
The door closed behind Paula and he was alone now with the enigma.  
But Crocodile had already figured out how to act with such a behavior and was certain that he would end Doflamingo’s little games today.  
He shook Doflamingo’s hand shortly and immediately let go, not trying to think about how good and secure it felt.  
‘That man is a puppeteer. Don’t get trapped in his strings.’ He reminded himself again.  
He offered him the seat next to his own and sat down himself.  
“Well, Mr. Donquichotte, first I am grateful that you are seriously taking my offer in consideration. I think I should start to tell you about the campaign and about our product: the perfume.”  
Doflamingo gave a soft smile and nodded. “I am eager to hear about it. After all I am a great fan of your work Mr. Emporio. If you allow me; I want to make you a compliment about your first collection in Paris, with which I had to wait so many months. It was beautiful and your sense of classic style and color makes me eager to get my hands on some of your creations.”  
Crocodile felt like punching the glass wall next to him. 30 fucking seconds into the talk and Doflamingo already made him want to undress the man and get to action. How could he make such fucking earnest puppy eyes while smearing honey all over his mouth?!  
‘Strings!!’ He tried to remind himself.  
“Well, I am of course glad for every form of critique. Now, to move on to the subject.”  
Good, good. No form of enhancement.  
Let the man choke on his sweet talk.  
But Doflamingo’s sweet look didn’t even fade for a second, and again Crocodile knew how dangerous that man was.  
Every other sane person had to think that Doflamingo was really such a nice man and would fall in seconds for him. And Crocodile knew that this could easily be the case. But deep in his core he could feel something resenting that nice form, all the compliments and the soft touches.   
He knew how fucked up people could be in this industry; he had witnessed it one too many times.  
Totally unfazed only on the outside he began to explain the product, the meaning of the name and what the fragrance meant personally for him and for how he hoped Doflamingo translate his expectations into reality.  
All the while he was talking, Doflamingo listened to him without showing even the slightest sign of negligence.   
It was frightening, that beside seeming like the perfect Mr. Charming he also could listen like no one other Crocodile had met before. He felt like telling the man his whole life story as to why he chose to create this perfume.   
“… So, I planned a photoshoot with you as Zeus as a symbol for I N V I C T U S – invincible – and the advertisement with the same theme. The contract with you as the face of the campaign will be 3 million dollars. Of course, if the contract should go longer the sum will grow.” He ended his speech.  
Doflamingo nodded. “Which I deeply hope for.”  
He looked at the drafts Crocodile had made for the campaign and which were spread out on the table. “Your ideas are really good. It makes me somehow want to start right away.”  
He grabbed one of the papers out of the pile. “I like this one in particular.” It was a design of a print. A quadratic frame and inside a round frame were the outer lines and inside there was a sketchy drawing of an also quadratic perfume bottle.  
Overlapping the circle and the bottle was a sketch of a human half-sitting, half-lying in the right lower corner of the draft, as if he was sitting on the frame of the outer quadrat.   
“It looks like the prints of Mucha.”  
At this point Crocodile was convinced that Doflamingo could read his mind and was using this ability to sneak into his little, poor and right now overly gay heart.   
“…Well, yes. I was in fact inspired by his theatre posters he made back in Prague. They have a certain dignity around them.” Strings, strings, strings, strings….  
Doflamingo handed the draft back to Crocodile. For a very brief moment their fingertips touched and Crocodile hated the little flinch he made at that gesture.  
“I hope I don’t sound too cliché right now, but you, Mr. Emporio – you remind me of Muchas work.”  
Crocodile was ready to explode. “Care to explain?”  
Doflamingo made an uncertain face as if he would search for words. “Well, your eyes. You have the same – beautiful, by the way – eyes as the models in his print. Certain, steady and mysterious. As if nothing could make you fall… standing there solid as a rock.”  
He scratched himself behind his ears. “To be honest, when I saw your picture in one of the magazines, I got interested instantly in your work and your designs.”  
He looked up at him again and Crocodile could make out the slightest hint of a blush and something inside him broke at that visual.  
“Well, we could discuss further details next week… I think I am free on Wednesday evening.” He didn’t know if he was free on Wednesday evening and he wanted to chop his head off for those words who just left his mouth, but it was too late already.  
The damage was done.  
Doflamingo stood up and took on of his hands in his own. The grip felt like a cozy blanket, wrapping Crocodile in like a burrito. A big dumb Burrito who had just thrown away any chance of getting away from this man’s strings. “I would be delighted. Let it be my treat next time – there’s a restaurant with a bar on the 14th street, with a view on the Avenue Skyline. Please let me invite you for dinner there.”  
Crocodile knew that he couldn’t get out of this one anymore. “Of course.”  
They both stood up as Crocodile clearly wanted to end this meeting.   
He gave his hand to Doflamingo when the man suddenly straight ignored his attempt of shaking hands as a simple goodbye and went in for a small, strong hug.   
Crocodile stopped breathing. However, as soon as the endless seconds of immense body contact had begun, they were already over again.  
“Sorry, but I just wanted to do this. Forgive me my rather unstraight approach.” Doflamingo excused his sudden action, picking up on the vibes of uncertainty Crocodile must’ve been radiating right now.  
He was at a loss of words.   
“Well then… until Wednesday.” With a smile on his lips, Doflamingo retreated from the Atelier, throwing one last look at the Designer when leaving through the door.   
Crocodile was left alone ins his atelier, body burning up with the fever of want and denial._

_That night he dreamed of the strong body embracing him again, but this time naked._

 

He tried to wipe that memory away as he reached the treehouse. His steps hadn’t gone unnoticed and he could here tiny foot tripling on the wooden planks above him. Then silence and then:  
“PASSWORD?”  
“Pirates and Monsters!” Crocodile answered from the foot of the tree.   
“… What is a Pirates favorite letter?!”  
Crocodile shook his head. HE hoped those boys never grew up to face trouble like he did.  
“You may think it’s the R but it’s the C!”  
He saw Luffy’s head poking out of one of the windows. “You may enter!”  
Crocodile laughed. “Oh? But I fear I am too big for your pirate ship, mate!”  
Hurried chatting and a few seconds later the boys came down via ropes that hung from the windows.   
“Croco!” Luffy jumped right in his arms and Crocodile was there to catch him. “Is Garp still at the house?!”  
“I fear that yes he is. Shall I go with you and give you a sign as soon as it’s safe?”  
“Please do so!!!” Sabo and Ace answered him.  
“I don’t want to go camping with Gramps!” Luffy whined into his shirt.  
Crocodile shook his hands as he made his way out of the forest together with the boys. “Well, but he is your grandpa and he wants to spend time with you because he loves you. You should at least show yourselves for a few minutes to greet him.”  
“If he catches us he makes us immediately go with him! Don’t wanna!” Ace grumbled and kicked a stone on his way.  
“And If I promise you that I’ll talk to him so you boys don’t have to go with him?”  
“You would do that????” Three expectant pairs of eyes were staring at him.  
Crocodile nodded. “Mhm.”  
“Then, I’ll go to see him.” Luffy decided and whacked his little fist in his open hand. “I am not afraid of gramps!”  
His older brothers were nodding furiously. “I’m also not afraid!” Ace confirmed. “Me too!” Sabo followed.

Crocodile returned with the boys on his trail to the house. The conversation had moved already from the parent talk to work. Paula was telling them about the artista gala when Crocodile came into the living room with the boys.  
“There are my boys! Let your Gramps hug you!” Garp stood up from the couch and took his three grandchildren up into his arms, squishing them until they begged to get down again, but with laughs and giggles all over.   
Crocodile sat down next to Paula. “Did a good deed?”  
Crocodile smiled. “don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
Paula gave him a friendly kick with her elbows in his side.  
“Well my boys, then it’s decided! Gramps goes camping with you!” The giggles and laughter of the boys immediately died down.   
But Crocodile remembered his promise. “Mr. Garp, how about you stay with the boys here this weekend? I could also take off on Saturday. Or we could also go to Disneyland. How does that sound?”  
The boys looked with heart eyes at Crocodile and then back with greedy at their gramps.   
“Ha! Disneyland, that’s just a waste of money! Nothing gives you better lessons in life then a few nights with mother nature! Am I right, boys?! We will- oh wait, that’s my pager.” He was suddenly interrupted at the beeping in his pocket. He took out the little device and his excited face changed to one with deep trouble wrinkles.   
“Excuse me for a moment. I’m going to make a call from my car.”  
Then he excited the house.  
Crocodile sensed nothing good. 

Just as expected, a few minutes later, Garp returned to them.  
“What is it Garp?” Ivana asked him, but it seemed like she could already figure it out.  
“It seems as If my free weekend was cancelled… the Shiki case again. Boys I am sorry. I have to leave, there’s an emergency meeting in half an hour.”   
Ivana gave him an understanding nod and Dadan accompanied him to the door.  
Crocodile looked at the boys.  
“Well… seems like we got out of the camping trip.” Sabo concluded.  
He didn’t sound happy.  
All three boys didn’t look relieved at all.  
And Crocodile could feel in that brief moment, that the boys secretly had wished to go with their Gramps, no matter where, if they just could be with him.  
“Come one, we’re going to the garden to play.” Ace and Sabo dragged Luffy, who openly displayed his disappointment back to the forest.

 

“It’s magnificent! The sunsets in particular. You can literally observe the sun going down and vanishing on the horizon.”  
The _**BARATIÉ**_ was full with a vast mix of different kind of people. A discreet sound of glass, dinner jazz and soft laughter mixed together with a faint note of expensive tobacco and the fragrance of haute cuisine food, which the chefs brought.  
It set a crass contrast to the comparing to other high class restaurants, straight and ordinary furniture, that partly didn’t even fit together, with a perfect and on time service of waiters who instead of a straight faced one-liners liked to stay longer on a table to chitchat a bit with the customers.  
Crocodile had understood the moment he had stepped out of the elevator, why Doflamingo had told him to dress rather “casual-loosely”.   
“Have you ever been to Egypt?” Crocodile was brought back by Doflamingo’s deep voice.  
His eyes came back to the loose shirt showing clearly too much of that chest.  
“I’m afraid not.” Crocodile answered on autopilot. He took a short breath to find back into reality and leaned forward on his comfy chair.   
Doflamingo laughed as he noticed his previous absence of mind.  
“You seem quite invested in this place. Never heard of this establishment?”   
Crocodile declined it apologetically.  
Doflamingo waved it away. “Originally that floor was a noble French restaurant, with all extras you could imagine. Penguin butlers and all five minutes a ‘Oui Monsieur. S’il-vous-plaît, Monsieur. Excuse moi Monsieur’.” Doflamingo made a grimace to underline his impersonating and Crocodile snickered at his quite comical show.   
“What happened with the restaurant?” He asked.  
Doflamingo leaned back in his chair. “Well, one day it was suddenly ‘We have a rat plague, Monsieur’ and the restaurant had to close as well as the whole building.”  
“A rat plague on the 21st floor?”  
“Rain pipes, Mister Emporio. Those little beasts are able to climb them up. Well at least here in the big cities, that is. Fascinating how they are able to adapt themselves to a certain living environment.”  
Crocodile shook himself. “We are talking about rats.”  
“Well, that still isn’t an argument to snatching the credit away from them right?” Doflamingo countered. “Some of us big shots started out as exactly that: rats in the streets. And today they are walking the red carpets like they belong nowhere else.”  
His argument seemed like a topic that went much further down then Crocodile was brave enough to touch right now, so he just passed it with a soft “Hm”.  
“Well, back to the restaurant: no one wanted this building after that news, so it was empty quite a long time. Slowly the lower floors were again filled with business but the top one here, even if being magnificent with its view, stayed ownerless. Everyone saw a losing bargain in having a location with that history.”  
Crocodile looked around him. The fact that there had been a rat-plague here wasn’t anything that bothered him much.   
In his youth he had gotten himself used to discos in old factories stinking of vomit, piss, cigarettes and sweat and motel rooms with whole cockroach families. Everything was endurable as long as they hadn’t to touch the money Emporio senior had left them behind.  
But it wasn’t as if Doflamingo knew that. “You’re starting quite the gamble by telling me such information. What makes you think I won’t leave this restaurant in an instant?”  
Doflamingo smirked. “Because I can’t imagine you being the type for such things. You have a more down-to-earth appearance then most of the people I meet in my business.”  
And there was it again. That scary side of that man, who was so easy with words and praises that touched your soul in weird places. The highest kind of sweet talker.  
“Well, seems that at last someone has taken the risk, right?” Crocodile directed his thoughts in another way.   
“Doffy, my man!”  
Suddenly they were interrupted by a tall lanky man, approaching their table. His hair was long and wavy, falling around the hard, angular features of his face.  
Doflamingo stood up and fell in a tight hug with the stranger.   
“Oh and who do we have here? New friend of yours? Ey man, I kinda know your face.” The stranger let go of Doflamingo and mustered Crocodiles face. “Shoot! I don’t get the name right now, but aren’t you that leopard guy hanging from the poster on fifth street?”  
Crocodile knew what the man was playing on. A famous fashion magazine had made a shoot with him a few weeks ago, sitting in an armchair with a real tiger to his feet. The big cat had made the hateful task very enjoyable. Now the cover picture was displayed at the Boulevard where Crocodile could see his own face gazing down when he passed it from time to time.  
“Emporio, Crocodile. Nice to meet you.” He helped the stranger’s memory. He was unsure, if he should stand up or give his hand or both. Dealing with a person like Doflamingo was already a hassle, but having someone this direct approaching him, was clearly a point on his dislike list.  
To his surprise, Mick, as he figured out his name now, took the initiative by giving him a soft clap on his shoulder. “Yeah Emporio! That was it. I’m Mick Diamante, by the way, but you don’t have to remember that. Names are worthless anyway.” He grinned with his fish kind lips.  
“Mick please.” Doflamingo interfered. “You’re a legend in your world. Crocodile, do you listen to rock?”  
Crocodile tried to make it not too obvious that his tastes in music were quite limited. “Not so often.”  
“Well, you see, this man right here is a legend of the Rock & Metal world. Mick has a 30-year long career and a famous all over the world.”  
“Oh come on, Doffy, stop praising me. Either way, I just saw you so I wanted to give a quick hi. You’re in for BBQ on Saturday?”  
Crocodile listened to the man planning their weekend plans. The name Doffy was kind of a strange nickname for Doflamingo. HE would’ve gone more for ‘Mingo’ instead, but well, each to his own. He repeated the nickname a few times in his head. Doffy. Doffy.   
Sounded really dumb. 

A few Minutes later Mick left again their food came.  
While eating, Doflamingo proceeded to tell Crocodile the rest of the story about the Baratié.  
Apparently some old chef had saw his chance to get a cheap building with perfect view and had put his live evening into making a respectable restaurant for a clientele that wasn’t as uptight as most people of their branch. With a concept of delicious food and high service with the familiar atmosphere of small homes he had found an empty niche and made it his business.  
“I like it here. Most of my friends come here, and you don’t have to stay attentive of the press or other high-nose colleagues”  
Crocodile nodded. “I guess I can understand that. The people here seem… well, rather…” he searched for the right word.  
“Loose?” Doflamingo grinned.  
“Not in a negative way, of course.” Crocodile added hurriedly.  
Doflamingo laughed at that comment. “mister Emporio, you don’t have to justify yourself in front of me. I hope that I don’t go too far with my words., but I want you to feel the same at ease and relaxed like the people around you. You don’t have to mask your words.”  
The comment upset Crocodile a little. He knew where this would be going.   
“Well, Mister Donquichotte, not everyone can have the luxury of wearing their heart on their sleeve. You may have forgotten that this is still a business meeting.” Finally, he had his composure and sharp tongue back, that he had missed the last few days being around that man. He straightened his back and folded his hands to undermine his statement.  
Doflamingo’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Well I don’t mind really the topic we are talking about. But regarding how intensive our business is from now on, isn’t also a part of it getting to know each other a bit better?”  
Maybe he had a point in that. But Crocodile, who didn’t want to let go of his newfound self-assurance so fast, was quick to counter. He was angry that his attempt to detach himself from Doflamingo was simply ignored.  
“As the employer in this contract I guess that I it falls under my assessment how far ‘getting to now’ is important for our relationship.”  
Doflamingo’s smile lost a little intensity. “Mister Emporio, Crocodile- can I call you Crocodile?”  
Crocodile clicked his tongue. What did that man – that BRAT – allow himself?! Swatting away all his hints of maintaining distance and now he even allowing himself to call Crocodile, his fucking EMPLOYER by his first name?   
He felt like an idiot for letting himself get away by such a tactless prater.   
‘Actors.’ His mind echoed annoyed.  
“Do what ticks your boxes, Mister Donquichotte.” He nearly spat out.   
Doflamingo may still be his client but he wouldn’t let himself be overrun by the pace of a rude brat.  
“Okay, timeout.” Doflamingo suddenly said. He took down his sunglasses, which had been resting on his head the whole time and put them down. His hands pressed to his face and for the first time Crocodile could notice some kind of troubled expression.  
‘Good.’ He thought. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.  
“Mr. Emporio.” His face reappeared behind his hands. “I think I caused a misunderstanding between us.”  
‘Well damn right you did.’ “Really.”  
“Okay, so, I get it. You don’t trust me, which is okay. And which should be normal in our society. But… see, I know I sound like a loser now. But I was really, really. Really happy, when you called me for this project. And on top of that for something which had such a personal deep connection to you.”  
By now his smile had dropped totally.   
“The first time I saw you, you can’t even imagine what a great impression you made on me.”  
Crocodile had enough of this kind of talk. “Maybe it would be better if you stopped with that unnecessary compliment bullshit.”  
For a change, Doflamingo seemed to be slightly angry now.  
“Mister Emporio, those aren’t compliments, but my feelings. And I won’t let them get ridiculed, not even by you.”  
Doflamingo’s voice became more tense, and Crocodile suddenly had a really bad feeling about the course of their conversation. “I am a fan of you and I think highly of you and I am not ashamed of that. And of course I take this project as a chance to get to know you, and to get closer to you. Which I’m also not ashamed of.”  
He took a pause and leaned forward on his elbows.  
“I simply wanted you to feel as comfortable around me as I do around you. That was maybe a bit selfish of me, and I apologize, if I went too far in this.”  
Crocodile listened to his words. An unpleasant lump formed in his throat.  
He was thrown back and forth between Doflamingo’s apparent honesty and his own uncertain feelings.   
However, he had to credit Doflamingo’s apology. Furthermore, he could notice the slight shaking in Doflamingo’s left hand.  
The man was just as nervous with the seconds of silence dragging on.  
“…Fine.” He exhaled.  
“I will accept your apology. I may have been a bit harsh with my words.”  
Doflamingo nodded. “Thank you, Mister Emporio.”  
It was silent again, only the sound of their cutlery and the conversations around them.   
Crocodile knew that the next move was on to him.   
“It is indeed a very personal project. And it is thanks to many recommendations of my colleagues, friends and family that the choice fell on you.”  
Doflamingo’s smile was on his lips again and somehow Crocodile was really thankful for that.   
“Well, it makes me happy, that your people think enough of me to recommend me to you. That is really an honor.”   
Crocodile nodded. “You can take it as one.”  
The perfume campaign became their topic through the rest of their dinner and Crocodile was relieved that the tension of before seemed to have dissipated. He had been scared for a few seconds at Doflamingo’s face looking so disappointed. 

After Dinner they moved on to the terrace. The evening weather became warmer as it was already the beginning of May.  
They sat in comfortable lounge chairs, small coffee table between them and a view over the rooftops of the Avenue quarter of the city. The last violet traces of the sunlight slowly vanished between the appearing stars.  
Crocodile was positively surprised that they had cigars on their menu card and ordered a Havana along with some top-shelf whiskey.  
Doflamingo showed interested in Crocodiles tastes and ordered the same.  
“You seem to know your way with whiskey, is that right?” he asked as they waited for their beverages.  
Crocodile affirmed that. “I started to collect them, as soon as I became 21. It’s a little side hobby. Others collect wine, I collect Whiskeys.”  
A muscular guy brought their drinks and the cigar along with a lighter to their table. “Enjoy the night view guys! We’re going to have a meteor shower tonight!” he declared as he placed their glasses.  
“Oh? Thanks for the information, Patty.” Doflamingo answered. Patty grinned at him and told them to prepare many wishes and went back inside.  
Crocodile lighted his cigarette and took a long drag from it.  
“you really know everyone around here, huh…?” He asked.   
“Well, I come here as often as I can. It’s livelier than at home and I like having many people around me.”  
Crocodile was reminded of his own colorful family. He could empathize with Doflamingo in this point.  
He raised his glass to Doflamingo. “Cheers.”  
Doflamingo mimicked him. “Cheers. To a successful job, and hopefully more following.”  
Their glasses met and Crocodile smiled benignly. “Well that’s what you have the meteor shower for tonight right.”  
“Oh, so I can wish that upon a star? But it can’t count because I already said it out loud.”  
The night became darker and the waiters walked around lighting candles on the terrace.   
“Well, then you simply have to make a new wish, right?”  
Doflamingo looked back at him. While one side of his face was glowing in a dark blue reflection of the night the other was shining orange from the candle light. Crocodile couldn’t deny that it made the man look more beautiful than he already was.  
Suddenly there was a choir of ‘Aaaaahs!’ and ‘Oooohs!’.   
“The shower started!” Doflamingo exclaimed and his eyes became all excited as he faced the night sky.  
And indeed, Crocodile could see the first Shooting stars racing along the blue firmament.   
“You have to wish for something!” Doflamingo urged him and his lips stretched open with a smile like an overexcited dog as he followed each shooting star he could catch with his eyes.  
Doflamingo nipped on his whiskey and thought for a wish. For what did he wish? Well, to be healthy of course. And to stay successful. But those were things he could influence very well himself, at least he believed that. So what did he wish on furthermore?  
“Oh my god, look Crocodile!”   
He turned around to see Doflamingo pointing at the sky and tried to follow the direction. An exceptionally bright shooting star stayed several seconds on the night sky disappearing.  
And then, just like knew, for what he should wish.  
The star was gone and again the normal smaller ones appeared.  
Doflamingo shifted in his chair. “Oh… uhm. Sorry, for calling out your forename. I forgot myself.”  
Crocodile took another sip of his whiskey. A light buzz started in his head, due to the tobacco alcohol mix.  
“You can take a wish from your list for that.” Crocodile answered with a light smile.  
“Oh?” Doflamingo cooed. “then please call me by my forename. As a compensation of course.”  
Crocodile snickered. “Of course. Doflamingo.”  
Called man sank in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “I guess I can die now.” He joked.  
He looked a bit dreamily and Crocodile asked himself, if the alcohol was also slowly getting to the actor’s head.  
“Please don’t wish for that now.”  
“Hardly.”  
The continued watching the shower and ordering drinks. Somewhere along the night Doflamingo also ordered a cigar but had to give up as he coughed half of the smoke out and Crocodile had quite the fun calling him an ‘uneducated youngster’, even if they were only two years apart.   
They continued calling each other by their first names, and Crocodiles discomfort from earlier that day was now a strange concept to him.   
Making light jokes, drinking, smoking and watching the night sky several meters above the city in Doflamingo’s company could count as his newest favorable activity.  
He felt nearly as comfortable as the Sundays at his family, and even if he knew that the alcohol played a significant role in this, he wondered how fast Doflamingo Donquichotte had found a way into his world and how easy he had let him in.   
However, he couldn’t really find it in himself to regret this.


	3. III

The door to his office swung open and without even any further warning, a beaming Doflamingo made his entrance.  
“Good morning Ladies”, he nodded into Paula’s direction, who gave a much too relaxed nod back, “and Gentleman.” A wink came into Crocodiles direction.  
Crocodile considered jumping out of the window.  
He asked himself how he had been even able to lose his shit that much upon their first meeting.  
Not that the actor had lost any ounce of attractiveness since then, god forbid that; but considering that in the meantime Crocodile had met the ‘pleasure’ of getting to know the annoying and yet enticing side of the actor to tear down all of his personal space – yes, Mihawk had warned him, and he had blown exactly that warning laughingly into cosmos as he realized now – well, anyway.   
To clear up the situation, he was hungover as shit from yesterday night and being hungover had always been the worst possible start for his day.  
“What the heck are you doing here?!” he was pissed that the actor apparently didn’t knew how to properly enter into an office, that he looked so unashamedly good in the early morning while Crocodile tried to fight his Hangover and was sure that his eye bags went from here to Bangladesh, that Paula seemed absolutely fucking UNFAZED about what was going on, that Doflamingo looked so FUCKING GOOD, fuck they had had the same fucking amount of alcohol, and in general, fuck the whole world.  
He wanted to continue his mental tirade, but stopped it in favor of his headache. Plus, it was Doflamingo. Crocodile already accepted, that the man had a whole different concept of personal space than other persons.  
“…What do you want.” He asked a bit calmer, letting himself fall back into his chair.  
Doflamingo still had that beaming smile on his face. Crocodile wanted to wipe it away. Favorably with his lips. Shit did he hate being hungover. It messed with his brain as well as with his libido.  
“I was worried about the state of your health. We weren’t exactly careful with the amount of toxic intakes yesterday.” A white paper bag was placed in front of him and his looks became a bit softer. “So I thought that you would surely appreciate some breakfast.” A cup of coffee followed on his desk.  
Crocodile looked on the deliciously looking treads on his desk. His stomach reminded him with a happy growl that he had skipped breakfast this morning.  
“And sorry for coming to your office without a note, but I wanted to surprise you.”  
“… Thank you.” Crocodile mumbled, giving an appreciative nod. His bad conscience instantly said hello.  
Paula excused herself “Got to hand some documents in “, and suddenly he was alone with Doflamingo in the office. Crocodile didn’t know if he should be grossed out by that utter betrayal of his only comrade in this fight.  
The actor looked after her as she left the room and then sat down on his desk. Calming down seemingly, he took Crocodiles figure in.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked with a soft voice.  
A bit thrown out by the sudden change of character, Crocodile was unsure how to answer.   
Doflamingo changing character from second to second with as much as just a blink was still something he would have to get used to.   
It was exactly also that nature, which prevented Crocodile to completely trust the man in any way, even if he undoubtly had an urge inside him to do so.  
“… a bit weary. I guess.”   
Doflamingo nodded understandingly. Hopping down from the desk he circled the table until he was behind Crocodile.  
“Care for a massage? I’m really good with my hands. Also you can take it as an additional apology for yesterday.” The offer came sudden. Moreover, Crocodile wondered why anybody would ask something like that. The next question was, why Doflamingo would ask before doing such a thing. He knew already all too good, that Doflamingo was a hopelessly PDA-addicted person with no knowledge of boundaries.  
But there was the prospect of getting those fine strong hands on his body without having to disgrace himself in any way.   
“Fine with me.” He answered the request. Warm hands settled down on his shoulders, starting to knead the knots out of the sore muscles. “But that doesn’t mean, you’re forgiven.” He added murmuring.  
Only a slight chuckle came as an answer.   
For the next minutes it became Crocodiles greatest task not to moan into the movements of those skilled hands which definitely and most obviously knew what they were doing. He considered even forgiving Doflamingo for his morning attack in his office.  
He didn’t notice until some time went by, that Doflamingo had said no word. There was a pleasant silence, but also a strange one. On the one side Crocodile wanted to enjoy it some more, but then again he felt bad somehow, because he thought, there should be some conversation. He figured already that this was Doflamingo’s way of giving him the reigns of their next conversational topic.  
“Feels like vacation.” He mumbled as an attempted joke.  
Doflamingo picked up on it: “Well, when was the last time you took yourself some vacation?”  
Crocodile, while leaning into the touches which were given to him, tried to think. Vacation? Rome maybe… but no that was for work. London? No, also work. And a disaster on top of that. His Sundays could count as vacation… but as they were only one day, they counted as free days.  
His clueless face didn’t seem to get lost to Doflamingo. With a snicker, he ended the massage and sat down on the desk right in front of Crocodile.  
“Okay listen, I have a crazy idea. The photoshoots are next week right?”  
Crocodile nodded.  
“Well, that leaves us a month until the commercials are being filmed. How about it? I have a Finca in Spain on the Island Mallorca, a wonderful little house with a garden and a pool.” He took Crocodiles hands in his own, the warm palms encircling him and lighting anew the feeling of blankets being wrapped around him. Crocodile hated that gesture. That gesture had started his downfall, he was sure of it.  
Doflamingo placed a small kiss on the knuckles. “Accompany me. I really want to show you my world.”  
“Your world?” Crocodile asked a bit ironically.  
Doflamingo laughed back. “At least the 50 hectare that I own. Please Crocodile. Do me that favor. And also I really… I really want to get to know you more. I mean I already said that yesterday, I know. But just see it as an invitation from me.”  
The designer looked as his knuckles that seemed to glow from the heat where the kiss had been placed.   
The fronts between them were still unclear. He didn’t know what the actor really wanted from him, and he in return didn’t knew himself what he wanted to get from Doflamingo beside his assistance as the face of his campaign.   
Their relationship until had been relatively short and a great chaos of uncertainties and mischances and overall covered by the distrust that Crocodile had towards Doflamingo’s type of character.  
But even so, he knew by know that he had a thing for the actor, in some weird, terrifying way. At least that he could admit to himself.  
And he wasn’t someone to run from his feelings or thoughts. If anything, he simply liked to delay the choices a bit sometimes.  
“We could do that.” He heard himself say, a bit unsure and quiet, but still aware of the fact that Doflamingo could hear him. Another kiss on his knuckles.  
“Thank you.” Doflamingo said.   
Paula came back and Doflamingo bid his goodbyes, still having to be somewhere today.  
When he left, Crocodile wanted to stand up and failed on the first attempt.  
His knees were weak like pudding and he tried to deny the feeling that felt like he had walked straight into a trap.

 

The week flew by in an instant. He met up with Doflamingo a lot in that time and got to know the man a bit better at some basic things like what his favorite food was, that he originally came from Spain and that his favorite music was Salsa as well as his beliefs and what type of person he was; even if he just got a rough sketch of the latter.  
He still couldn’t get used to Doflamingo’s different faces, but at least he wasn’t as surprised anymore at the sudden switches from nice to Predator, or to serious or whatever.  
In return he told him few things about himself and Doflamingo seemed to suck up every little bit of information like a sponge. Crocodile had already come into the sensation of Doflamingo’s listening ability.

So when the day of the shooting came around, Crocodile felt much more relaxed about their joined vacation, as in the beginning. He had the feeling of slowly getting a feeling for the man, who he was working with, and he noticed, how he also acted more familiar whenever Doflamingo was around.  
Like now, for example.  
His eyes followed the flow of muscles in front of him and could feel his mouth going dry over the ridiculously attractive body of this adult brat, this charming annoyer named Doflamingo, that stood in front of him, not more than a pair of briefs covering his body.  
“You will have to undress that too, you know.” he thought to himself, his fantasy already running wild. Only that he hadn't thought to himself, and Doflamingo’s grin was by now stretched sickeningly over his whole face.  
“Oh...? Well, I do that gladly, of course.” he purred back. And Crocodile hated himself. And Doflamingo for his fucking character switches which came at the worst moments and which still managed to mess with his mind if only not so strong as in the beginning. But that didn’t change the fact, that they were annoying.  
At least they were interrupted by the photographer.  
“Okay, lads and gents, the light is ready! Where is my model? Doflamingo! Darling come here, here, in front of the camera. And drop those stupid briefs already, we need you naked, buddy!”  
Crocodile winced at the voice. “Why Whitey Bay again?” he whispered to Paula, who sat next to him, checking the schedule for the day.  
“Because she is the best in nude and half-nude photography.” Paula answered. “You wanted someone good to do the job, I booked someone good.” She scribbled something down on her pad.  
“Also, since when do photographers exist, that you like? Be happy, I chose the least detestable for you. Plus, you have a half-naked Adonis in front of you, and believe me, Bay WILL make him run around naked at some point of this day. It’s not like she knows any restrictions.” the sarcasm in her voice didn't go by unnoticed.  
“Okay, okay. I understand.” Crocodile reconciled.  
Meanwhile, Doflamingo went into his position on the green cloth covered ottoman. “Oh, Mister Designer”, Bay gestured. “I need yar opinion on the pose!” With a sigh, Crocodile stood from his comfy chair and went to the scene. Doflamingo, now fully nude with only the Toga thrown over his midsection and shoulder (and honestly, the thin fabric didn't leave much for imagination), sat on the ottoman, leaned back lightly, one knee folded up and his wrist resting on it.  
The draft which Doflamingo had shown him on their technically first and in reality second meeting came to Crocodiles mind, along with those words of utter admiration. He took a deep breath and tried to remind himself that he was a professional. Although it was a difference touching the man fully clothed and almost naked.  
“Here”, he gestured, and straightened Doflamingo’s left arm on his knee. “Hold it like that. And your head...” he took his chin in his hand, suddenly very aware of the warm skin beneath his fingertips, the light breathing, that graced his hand. “Look. up. There, on the steel beam at the ceiling. You see it?” Doflamingo’s head followed the motion, but his eyes were fixed on Crocodiles face. Sapphire orbs, staring at him, lips slightly parted. Crocodile cursed his inner want to kiss the younger man, to devour him, right on this couch, to touch him, to be touched, to be devoured.  
“Okay”, he broke his own line of thoughts before it could get dangerous as if it wasn’t already dangerous 24/7.   
“And now, lean. Back.” he guided his hand on the broad chest, pushing it just so slightly to guide his anticipated motion.  
The warm press against soft skin was torture, and Crocodile realized very well that he was torturing himself right now and that he liked every second of it.  
What hot-blooded, (almost) entirely gay man could withstand such temptation, when it was sprawled out right before his eyes? A little bit of touching couldn't hurt. Lie.  
“I hope your fingers are trembling because of me.” Doflamingo barely whispered so only Crocodile could hear him.  
God, if only it wasn't for his shitty personality. Maybe he just wanted to believe that ti was for his shitty personality.  
“Shut up. Sit still, no moving. Lean like that and watch the steel beam.” The momentum of his enchantment was broken, and he found back to his composure.  
He grabbed the last touch, a blindfold for the man in front of him, letting his dangerous eyes disappear behind white silk. “That's better.” he grunted and stood up to see if everything looked as he wanted it to.  
“Oh, right. Isn't that the pose from the guy on that church in Italy?” Bay mused as she got the camera ready.  
'IT'S ROME AND IT'S THE SIXTINE CHAPEL YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!!', Doflamingo wanted to snarl back at the chalk-on-board shrieking voice, but Paula was already at his side, gently nudging him out of the picture.  
While Bay started her work with full energy, only taking slight changes for Doflamingo’s pose, Crocodile replayed the last few minutes in his head.  
If Doflamingo would only be his body, then Crocodile would’ve have long ago dragged him into his bed and done all the things he only dared to dream at night about for now.  
But that wasn’t the case. And that’s where his problem began.  
Doflamingo’s vexing character, the changes in his acting could be enough for Crocodile to two steps back again when he just had managed to make on forward, and not touching that subject any further.  
But somehow every time something happened that urged to him to take the same step towards Doflamingo either way, as the actor was doing towards him. Doflamingo was a magnet, sucking him in further and further, and Crocodile couldn’t withstand.  
Paula beside him let out a small sigh. “He really looks like a god right now, don't you think so?” she mumbled, clearly pleased.  
And even if Crocodile didn't answer, he couldn't find it in him, to disagree.

 

The original plan of making the photos in one day slowly broke down, but at least Crocodile could expect that. It wasn’t new that campaign schedules weren’t on time and he had already planned in a few days more for the shoots.  
So when they finally were done on Saturday evening, Paula decided to hold a small party in Crocodiles house.   
“Why not?” was her comment. “It’s good to do such things from time to time. Everyone put time and effort in this, and it’s never wrong to reflect on it in a relaxing round with a bit of alcohol. Also you could do with showing a bit more of your personality.”  
While Whitey came with two of her coworkers, while Doflamingo brought his manager Vergo, which Crocodile had had some short conversations during the shoots. He had been surprised upon such a calm and reflected man being able to work with Doflamingo. More so because the man showed absolutely no discomfort at Doflamingo’s character knack, and knew every time how to act around him.   
Somehow, Crocodile envied the man.   
Paula came with Mr. Bentham and Miss Goldenweek from the administration of his company, and together with a few other people who had taken part in the campaign project up until now a small group gathered in Crocodiles mansion.  
He was glad, that Paula had arranged for enough alcohol and food beforehand, mostly because he wasn’t used to have so many people in his house.  
Of course she also ushered him to make a little speech and Crocodile obliged, thanking everyone who had participated until now. He didn’t forget to mention that he was very satisfied with the results and gave special thanks to Whitey and Doflamingo.  
Doflamingo didn’t miss to give the compliments back and gave a few words on his part on how excited the project made him.  
As Crocodile listened to him, he couldn’t ignore that the actor sounded like a little boy excited for Christmas which gave him a warm fuzzy feeling.  
He had watched Doflamingo a lot the few last days and was impressed of how serious the man could work and how he always wanted to give more than 100 % in his work, for example giving ideas for more poses to the point where he studied drafts and earlier shoots of Crocodiles designs to get a feeling of what the designer wanted.  
It had been a whole new pleasure to see someone just as investigated in his own work as himself.  
Afterwards, Crocodile took the opportunity that Paula had asked him for and walked around asking the people for their opinion so far.   
Before, he had been used to simply working top-down strategy until Paula had made it clear to him that he had to work with his company not only vertical but also horizontal.

_‘Everyone contributes to the label **EMPORIO** , even if it’s just the little trainee who makes coffee for the coworkers.’_

Crocodile had taken her words to heart and had been surprised how the ideas of many of his employees had started to contribute to his work in a positive way.   
The best result had been a giant bulletin board where every coworker could pin photographs, pictures and designs with their names as inspirations for the new collections. Crocodile would then include the names in the credits after a catwalk show.

 

The last guests left around 2 am in the morning, excluding Doflamingo whom Crocodile caught standing in his atelier, looking at the designs for his first fashion show, which he had framed and hung up on his wall as a reminder for his success and also as a motivation when he was stuck in an art block.  
“My greatest work so far.” He commented the scene.  
Doflamingo turned around and showed him a slightly tired grin.  
He directed his gaze back at the designs. “I was 18 when my acting career started in Spain. I was casted for the male lead in a historical drama series, that became quite popular later on. Guess, I had pretty much luck for such a start.”  
Crocodile stood next to him and simply listened. It was something new that Doflamingo told a clear episode from his past and he found himself very curious about this.  
“Vergo was with me back then and helped me to spread my name. It was also his idea, as I recall, to go to the Miss Devon fashion show in Madrid to show my face and maybe get a few modelling contracts. To be honest back then the event hadn’t been something I had been looking forward to.”  
Crocodile just gave a nod. HE knew how boring some shows could get when you were in the spectator rows. Usually the first three dresses could decide if you were in for a top or flop.  
“Katharina had allowed me to present one of my designs in that show with only some little corrections by her. She wanted to see if I had the thing for my own collection.” He remembered.  
“Well turns out you did.” Doflamingo’s face was full of open admiration at this point as they both stared at exactly that design, which Crocodile had mentioned:  
A long tunica dress with dolman sleeves and a dark blue color that had a few lighter blotches here and there. A female figure with dark orange hair styled to an old 60s look was wearing it, a star band resting on her head, similar to the statue of liberty.  
She was faceless except for the eyes which Crocodile had lined after Muchas ideal.  
“When that model came out in that dress I forgot how to breath for a second. She had been looking like a Greek goddess. Or an empress of a faraway galaxy. Her whole look had such an amenity… I don’t know. I remember that the image didn’t leave my head for a whole week. I was constantly walking around thinking about that model and her dress.”  
A fuzzy feeling grew in Crocodiles stomach. No one before had talked to him about his first official design like that. All the people who came to his atelier didn’t even had an idea that this had been his first design, not even Paula, who knew pretty much everything about him.  
He catches himself soothing after more words about his work from Doflamingo.  
He made a small huff of gratitude, to show Doflamingo that he received the huge compliment for his heart and soul.  
Doflamingo turned a bit to him and continued. “After that show I had been desperate to get to know the label Miss Devon more. I had been looking through fashion magazines like an idiot, but none of her creations had resembled that one dress. Until two years later when suddenly a man named Crocodile Emporio launched a collection for the label.” He shot him a playful glance.  
Crocodile rolled with his eyes.   
“I missed the show. Though I already moved to the USA back then, there the show took place, I had been invested in the finale of the fourth season of my drama. Only afterwards I had gotten to see some of the pictures and your name with it along with a picture of yourself. I guess that was the starting point of my fascination with not only your creations but also you as a person.”  
“Oh.” Crocodile felt a blush creeping up his face. He wanted to believe it was the beer and whiskeys fault from earlier. But he knew better.  
Doflamingo’s body was now turned fully towards him. “Thankfully I made it to the next show last September. And it did not disappoint. In contrary,” his hands found again Crocodiles like so many times until now, “I was enchanted by seeing the work of those hands finally in reality and all its glory. And then, you came out on the stage.”  
To say that Crocodile’s heart was beating fast was the understatement of the year. It was racing. And he was once reminded that he was indeed very, very much and helplessly gay.  
“The moment I saw you I knew that I had to get close to you, no matter the cost. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out back then… but I guess it’s okay seeing as now I am able to get this close to you.”  
And close he was. Crocodile could practically feel his breathing.   
“I’m glad that your dream came true.” He mumbled while his gaze fluttered back and forth between Doflamingo’s eyes and lips.  
 _‘He’s straight! Don’t even think about it!’_ suddenly a voice in him chirped. An old warning voice, which he had nurtured himself to prevent him from any stupid mistakes.  
The tension in the room was hard to ignore.  
“Really?” the whisper of Doflamingo’s voice carried a forbidden danger.  
Suddenly Crocodile found himself asking, if Doflamingo was really straight, as in, only straight.  
The man had never explicitly said so himself. It had always been only Crocodiles assumption right? Then again, their talk had never been about their sexual orientation, although Crocodile knew that at least his own wasn’t a big secret in the world of celebrities. Doflamingo had to know at least that.  
So, what if his advances towards him, no matter if honest or just a play, were also directed in that way?  
A heat spread through his whole body at the thought that Doflamingo could think about him with those kind of ulterior motives. It was a difference if Crocodile was lusting after him privately one-sided – but suddenly having the prospect of his longings being returned at him, made him loose half of his brain capability.  
Even worse was, that Doflamingo, being the fucking minder reader Crocodile deemed him to be, must’ve caught up on his messy thoughts somehow, because the distance between their faces hand shrunken as much as the tension in the room became more and more.  
“I don’t know what kind of answer you are expecting.” Well and he didn’t really need to know anymore, regarding that the fucking words had come out a whole octave lower if that was even possible.  
And of course Doflamingo picked up right on that. “A honest one.”  
O gods in heaven, forbid that man this low seductive voice and burn his impossible entrancing eyes along with it.  
Nothing like that happened. Instead, Doflamingo opened his mouths and breathed out low. “Because I may have gathered the impression and also a bit of hope that you can’t wait to tell me about it. All. Of. It.”  
Every little syllable was lava streaming down his neck.  
He felt like every breath of air had been sucked out of his lungs. It was simply-  
„Enough.“ Crocodile growled under his breath.   
That was the starting signal for Doflamingo. Without much further warning he took the initiative and pressed the designer against the wall, pinning his hands there and pressing his lips against the other man. The kiss was messy, Crocodile could feel teeth poking his lips and a tongue trying to get access to his mouth.  
'What a hot and bothered man' he thought to himself, surprised how clear his mind worked right now.   
He slipped his hands free of Doflamingo’s hold, grabbing his head in favor of showing him a real kiss. The domination seemed to be something unknown to the young actor, but was all the more well received. Slowly, Crocodile started to nib on the soft part of lips, taking the upper one into his mouth, caressing it, playing with it, letting not more than their lips touch. He let his breath ghost over his partner’s face, his hands slowly slipping down Doflamingo’s sides.  
“I hope that answers your question. You just got to have a little patience.” He breathed into Doflamingo’s ear, nibbling a bit on his earlobe before ghosting back with his lips to his chin and then to his neck, letting only as much as the tip of his tongue glide the vibrating flesh. 'Excited like a little fawn' he thought to himself, chuckling. Well he had a good talk. His whole body was shaking with anticipation, because right now here he touched Doflamingo, he kissed Doflamingo, and even if that whole shit was only a game and treachery would wait at the finish line, then he wanted to ignore it in favor of having this evening. He was tired of telling himself to distance himself from what his body and mind wanted so obviously.   
The damage could be collected later.  
“Patience hm?” Doflamingo answered, his hands back on Crocodiles wrists, pining them again against the wall, but this time softer and more lovingly, then crossing their fingers.  
“At the end of this evening, Crocodile…” he whispered against the lips “… I will take my share on that patience of you. If you still want to hold it up until then, of course.”  
Then he sealed their mouths again and let his hands wander to get them out of their clothes.  
Holy shit.  
Crocodile could swear that he tried to be at least a bit pissed at the cockiness of that actor, but his brain had long betrayed him with his desires and he couldn't suppress a smile about the offer that Doflamingo had made.  
'I will go to hell for this' he thought while his shirt and trousers found their way somewhere on his million-dollar furniture.  
 _'Yes, and you’ll love every second of it.'_ the devil inside him answered, and between hungry kisses he grabbed Doflamingo’s already loose belt to drag him to his bedroom.  
They were almost and the bedroom door, when suddenly a shrill ring reverberated through the house. ‘Fucking phone!’ Crocodile screamed in his mind and tried to ignore it. But the ringing didn’t stop.   
With an unsatisfied growl he pushed Doflamingo away and almost ripped the phone speaker of the wall station.   
“WHAT?!” He barked into the speaker.  
Who even called at this fucking time?!   
“Mister Emporio? This is the Saint Bartholomews hospital. My name is doctor Kureha.”   
Crocodiles anger was dissipated in a moment.   
The heat started to change to cold sweat.  
His eyes wandered to Doflamingo who was still leaning with heavy pants against the wall next to his bedroom door. ‘Who?’ he mouthed silently.  
Crocodile’s eyes distracted by the delicious abs in front of him almost made him overhear the doctor on the other end of the line.  
“Mister Emporio, your mother was hospitalized one hour ago in our neurologic department.”  
Crocodiles noticed just now that his mouth had went completely dry. “Why.” He croaked. His mind was a mess, not fast enough to change to the new pace the evening had taken.  
“We don’t know the details yet. But it seems she had a stroke. Right now we put her into an artificial sleep so her body can recover. As her only living relative we contacted you. Can you make it to the hospital in the next few hours?”  
Crocodile didn’t have to think. Well, he wouldn’t be able to, not now with this horrible load of news.  
“I’m there in a half.”  
He brought the speaker back and took a deep breath.  
“Everything okay?” A hand tipped on his shoulders. Doflamingo had used the time of the call to close his shirt. And he was also awfully composed.  
“The hospital. My mother had a stroke.” Crocodile answered without a filter in his brain.  
“Fuck.”  
Crocodile leaned against the wall, pressing his face into his palms. “I need to tell Mr. Zero to make the car ready.” His thoughts were running.  
“I’ll do that. I’m coming with you.” With those words, Doflamingo already headed to atelier. Crocodile’s brain needed at least ten seconds to understand the sentence.   
“You… you don’t need to do that!”  
The actor was there, collecting their shattered clothes. As he came back and handed them over to Crocodile, his eyes were a piercing glare.   
“Your only parent is sick. There is no fucking way I am going to leave you alone tonight.” He stated. “I am going to call Mr. Zero and get the car read. You just get yourself dressed.” He said and took the speaker again to call the garage.  
Without further protest, Crocodile dressed himself. He hadn’t the strength to protest. 

 

The drive to the hospital was spent in sheer agony by Crocodile.   
A thousand thoughts raced through his mind.  
Why hadn’t he noticed his mother’s bad health?

A stroke could happen anytime, out of the blue.

What had he been thinking, getting himself some quality time, while his mother was sick?

He couldn’t know about it; people weren’t mind readers after all.

He had been so close to sleeping with a man he still knew nothing about.

So what? _You know enough to give in to your desires._

 

_Does he harbor the same feelings for me as I am for him?_

 

_YOUR MOTHER IS SICK. **HOW CAN YOU THINK ABOUT THAT NOW?**_

 

A warmth spread through his body beginning from his hand which lied on the seat. Next to him sat Doflamingo, stroking it soothingly with his own. A silent comfort, which didn’t help to shut off Crocodiles inner breakdown, but at least he felt like he didn’t had to suffer alone through it.

Arriving at the hospital he was instantly greeted by Doctor Kureha who informed him of his mother’s well-being.   
“A sudden stroke. We put her in the MRT and CT to search for the cause, but it will take until morning to get the results.”  
“What could it possibly be?” Crocodile croaked. His throat was still dry.  
The doctrine put down her glasses. “There are many possibilities for a stroke, Mister Emporio. Mostly it’s age, but it can also be the lifestyle of a person. I could smell quite the tobacco stain on your mother’s clothes. Smoking isn’t exactly a behavior that grants you a long life.”  
Her harsh words had Crocodile broke out in a raging fit any other day, but right now the clean and practical tone helped him to keep his composure.  
“She smokes and drinks quite much.” He did admit.  
“I could guess myself. But either way we are going to wait for the results, to be sure. Making rash assumptions won’t help any of us now.”  
Crocodile nodded only.  
After the administrational paper work was done, Kureha escorted him to his mother’s room.  
Doflamingo wasn’t allowed inside, but he seemed to know about that and waited outside respectively. “I’ll get you coffee.” He said and left them.  
As Crocodile entered the hospital room, he could feel the same cold sweat in his palms as when he had heard the firsts words of Doctor Kureha through the phone.  
Uncertainty reverberated through every cell of his body.  
His first glance was directed at the machines, many of them, beeping softly in their own rhythm. Then his eyes came to the bed.  
His mother looked like she was asleep, if not for the hydroxide mask over her mouth.  
The door behind them clicked again open, then a slight conversation with Doctor Kureha and another voice and then again the clicking of the door.   
Crocodile sat down on a chair that was beside the bed. He took his mother’s hand in his own. It was still warm, and for a moment Crocodile feared what he had expected.  
“The blood results are out. It seems the stroke was only a minor one, so we don’t expect lasting effects of it. But it was quite a shock for your mother, so it’s better to stay alert.” Kureha’s voice came only slowly through to him.  
He could only nod and say as much as a rasped “thank you.”  
With his other hand, he brushed a few of her sunken locks out of her face.  
“When will she wake up?” he asked the doctrine who was meanwhile checking a few of the infusions.  
“We will wake her latest tomorrow about midday. I suggest for you not to wait here until that. Get home and get yourself some sleep. If you want, I can give you some medicine for that, if you want to, Mr. Emporio. We will give you a call as soon as she wakes up.”  
Like a little child Crocodile agreed with her. He gave his sleeping mother a kiss on her cheek, and stroked her head lovingly.   
“I’ll come back tomorrow.” He whispered to her. “Don’t sleep too long, mom.”

When he stepped into the fresh air outside, he found Doflamingo waiting by the car not far from the entrance. One cup was in his hand while he drank out of the other.  
Crocodile walked towards him. “What’s that?” He asked.  
“Coffee with a large serving of rum. It always fascinates me what you can get at this hour in this city.” Doflamingo answered. “Here. I guess that helps most right now.”  
Crocodile thanked him for the drink. Silently they stood together, blowing on their hot beverages.  
“What now?” Doflamingo’s question was only a silent whisper.  
Suddenly it came to Crocodile, that he had dragged the man in his own drama. He knew he should’ve sent him home; but he couldn’t find the strength to let go of his presence which was like an anchor for him to keep himself together.  
“She will be okay.” It was a lie, mostly for Crocodile himself than for Doflamingo, but latter didn’t ask more questions.  
“Let’s drive back.” 

 

The door fell shut behind him and Crocodile felt totally out of place in his own home. He knew he had to get out of his boots. He knew he had to hang up his Sacco.   
But his body didn’t move. He stood there, frozen in place, feeling like a stranger in his own home.  
Ultimately it was Doflamingo who started to undress him, like a father would with a little child: he sat him down on the stairs, untying his boots. Crocodile watched his fingers, who worked quick and efficient, as if the man had experience with that.  
Crocodile caught his eyes. “I used to have a little god child, Dellinger. Back in the days I sometimes helped his mother out to watch after him.” He answered the unasked question.  
With tender care and great patience, he got Crocodile to his bedroom and out of his clothes (he stopped at the undershirt and the underpants alone out of decency).  
Being tucked in into the covers, Crocodile could feel the additional alcohol of the night slowly closing his eyes, but as he felt that Doflamingo was getting up, he caught after the man and got the sleeve of his shirt.  
He wanted to say something, but he was tired, and his brain was empty.  
But Doflamingo seemed to understand. He got rid of his shoes and then the bed beside dipped down beside him as he felt a warm body embracing his.  
He couldn’t remember much after that, only that he fell asleep in an instant at the sound of a beating heart by his ear.

 

He woke up to the ringing of his telephone.  
In only few milliseconds he was wide awake.  
‘THE HOSPITAL!’  
He wanted to stand up and hurry to his phone, when he registered that there had been a presence yesterday beside him and it wasn’t there anymore and suddenly the ringing stopped and someone picked up the phone and-

“Emporio Household, hello? Doctor Kureha, hello.  
… No, he’s still sleeping. Wait a moment I’ll look after him.”

Crocodile could hear bare feet tapping on his parquet and the door of his bedroom was opened. Doflamingo peeked in and found him awake sitting on his bed.   
“Good morning. Or good Noon. You have a quite a good sleep.” He crossed the room and gave Crocodile the Speaker. “It’s the hospital. Your mother woke up.”  
Crocodile took the speaker and whispered him a good morning back.   
“Yes, Crocodile Emporio, here.”  
“Mister Emporio! As I hear, you have taken on my advice, that’s good.”  
Crocodile could hear Dr. Kureha’s amused undertone.  
“Your mother woke up, and first things first: she seems in good condition, has normal memory and orientation. The CT and MRT scan results are also out, so as soon as you’re ready you can come over.”  
“Thank heavens. Of course, I’ll come over in an instant.”  
“Good boy. See you soon!”  
With that the doctrine hung up. Crocodile gave the speaker back to Doflamingo and noticed only now that he still wore his underwear from the last day.  
“I need to change.”  
“Of course. I made some coffee in the kitchen and called Paula in the office, if that’s okay. I didn’t tell her any details, just enough to let her know that you’re taking a small break.”  
Crocodile thanked him. Upon giving Doflamingo’s appearance a second glance he noticed that the man had another set of clothes on him than yesterday.  
“I changed at home and took a shower there. After all I’m only 45 minutes away from you.” Doflamingo answered his long stare amused.  
“No get ready, princess, you don’t let a queen wait.”  
He was out fast enough so the cushion that Crocodile threw after him, missed.

 

“Call Dadan, to get me change of clothes, I’m going to hurl if I need to wear this fucking hospital paper bag another night. And tell Inazuma to get me some of the pastries of Henrys. Oh and some magazines, Vague and Elly favorably. Also how do you look? Has a bulldozer crashed over you or what? I can practically feel your eye bags.”  
Yep, his mother was definitely alive and kicking.  
But even if his troubles from the night seemed very worthless and the spitting image of health his mother was giving away now, he was somehow glad it was like that. He didn’t knew what he would do if his mother had awaited him, lying sickly in her bad and only rattling him a ‘You look like shit.’  
He was 26 and definitely not ready to let go of his mother.  
“I’m glad to see you, too, mom.” He decided to answer.  
His mom gave him a shit-eating grin. “Well, I was expecting to have a normal Sunday, not this shit here. Anyway, is that a kiss mark on your neck?”  
Crocodile hands reacted on instinct covering up the skin on his neck.  
Ivana’s eyes grew big. “Oh my god, you reacted. You stupid, lovely son of mine.” She gasped.  
Now Crocodiles eyes widened. That witch.  
Said witch took his hands and gave him a long stare. “I am very happy for you, and I want to repeat that you have all my blessings.”  
“Mom!” Crocodile nearly shouted. A nurse shot him an angry look through the half open door.   
“Mom,” he repeated a bit quieter, “it isn’t as your wild and strange mind wants to imagine!”  
His mother raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well then tell me what I should imagine then, because you clearly just outplayed yourself. Also don’t try to lie in my hands, I have a detailed protocol from Paula about the last few days.”  
‘Of course’, Crocodile thought. As if his mother would pass out on any opportunity to get informed about his love life.  
“It’s complicated.” He tried to sum up the delicate topic.  
“Well I guess I have taught you how to use words, didn’t I?” Ivana killed his attempt instantly.  
Crocodile sighed. He knew, he wouldn’t get out of this.

Half an hour later he finished with the mostly censored version of Saturday night.  
“Like I said, it’s complicated.” He concluded.  
His mother shook her head. “First and foremost it’s unbelievably dumb and cute. And funny.”  
“Why is it dumb?”  
“Oh you won’t catch on the cute?”  
“Fucking shit, mom.”  
Ivana laughed at his language. “It’s dumb, because it simply is. But I could tell you whole books now about why that is so. Instead I’m going to give you advice from my heart: Go with that boy to Spain. He’s right; you really, really need some vacation.”  
“As if I could go now, when you’re in the hospital!” Crocodile protested.   
He couldn’t believe that his mother even thought about sending him away now.  
“My dear child, I have a whole armada of pampering mother hens, that are already chomping at the bit.“ Ivana answered him.  
“And now stop worrying about me and call Dadan already. We will discuss that later.”  
Crocodile shook his head but obliged his mother. It was senseless to argue with her now, and she didn’t need any stress right now.

After calling Dadan and Inazuma, he came back to the room where his mother only told him, that the subject would be delayed until the next day, but he shouldn’t get any hopes of getting out of it.   
Crocodile just tried to get the talk over his head.  
His complicated relationship with Doflamingo could wait – Family always came first.

 

An hour after her son left, Dadan was already on her door.  
Ivana was happy to see her caretaker and best friend, and was also greeted with a tight hug.  
“Oh god Ivana. Everyone at home was so worried over you, you have no idea. Inazuma can’t come today, but she promised me to come tomorrow.”  
She placed a basket on the nightstand and started to unpack the big travel bag that with Ivana’s clothes. “the doctor said, you will stay for at least two weeks. That’s pretty long, but well, I guess I am no doctor myself right?”  
“Dadan-“  
“But hell, am I glad to see you up and well. I thought I was going to pass out myself when I found you in your bed room, all stiff and stuff-“  
“Dadan, I have cancer.”  
“- and you didn’t answer and- oh.”  
Dadan stopped in her moves and turned around. Her face was stiff as a marble statue.  
“You are joking.”  
Ivana shook her head slowly. Secretly she had wished that over 50 times since that morning Kureha had come in and told her about the illness found in her results.   
It wasn’t a joke, and Ivana knew that she wouldn’t handle any breakdown besides her own.  
“Dadan... listen. You took care of me for so many years. I don't want to you to go all pity-patty on me now. You know I don't like that, so don’t try to begin that shit now.”  
The caretaker still had a pair of folded trousers in her hand when she sat back down in the visitor chair. “Ivana, tell me that this is a horrible joke of yours.”  
“Do you really think, I would joke in this situation, Dadan?”  
Dadan stared and her, and Ivana noticed the small tears creeping in her eyes.   
“Oh God.” Dadan mumbled. Her hands left the pants be pants and covered her face instead.  
“See… that’s why I didn’t tell you.” Ivana sighed.  
She hated seeing her best friend like this.   
The crying should be on her part alone – not on others.  
“Why?” Dadan pressed out between her hands.  
“Kureha says, it’s my lifestyle. After all its lung cancer, so I guess there’s not much to guess for- oh come, on, Dadan. Stop crying!” She tried to soothe her down by patting her orange hair.  
“Stop crying.” She repeated silently.   
‘Please stop, or I’ll cry with you.’  
Dadan's face was still bitter when she put her hands down, but at least she managed to swallow her tears down. “If you had cut down on the whiskey and the cigarettes, I didn't have to sit here and wail like a kicked puppy.” she spat out.  
Ivana laughed back at her. Much better.  
“Maybe, but then life would only be half as fun, right? Never mind me, darling, I am quite content with how I lead my life. My boy's famous and will end up – as it seems for now of course – happy with a person of his choice and I can leave this world with the knowledge of being a free woman without the name of my Ex-Monster.” She carved her fingers through her hair. It bugged her, that it wasn’t styled as usual, but well, she had cancer. Maybe she should sort out her priorities.  
“When do you plan on telling your son about this?”  
“Preferably never.” Ivana laughed. “To be honest I'm afraid to look at his face when I tell him. I even ordered Doctor Kureha not to show him my results and lie to his face. I’m glad I have her as a friend here in this hospital, which my son, by the way, also doesn’t know.”  
“You are truly horrible.”  
“Maybe. But even if he doesn’t look like it he tends to worry more about the people he loves then about himself, and I’m afraid he well let a great chance of finding happiness pass by, if he’ll burden himself right now with my state of health.”  
Her stare wandered off into the columns of trees outside the window. She continued with her voice being very heavy.  
“I saw him working so hard towards his dream, Dadan. I don’t know if somewhere out there there’s any person besides us, who can understand just how much credit he deserves for what he did.”  
Dadan shook her head at first, then she nodded.  
Ivana smirked at that. “He is an amazing person, and he will be even more amazing in the future. But he needs someone who reminds him of that. Who tells him to rest from time to time. Who listens to his worries and fears and who’s at his side to give him support in every situation of his life. And as long as he’s that investigated with me, that won’t happen, that much I know.”  
“That almost sounds, as if you’re declaring yourself a burden to your son.” Dadan shook her head, seemingly irritated.  
“I am a burden Dadan, that’s nothing that has to be sweet-talked. After all, that his how I raised him. Constantly by my side, watching me and only me instead thinking about his shithead of a father. I made myself his world and at the same time held my respective distance in order to make him a strong and capable man. And now, wipe that sour look of your face! I am 61, it's a good age to die. More so that it keeps me from getting old and ugly.”  
She clapped her hands together.  
“So, moving on to the next topic of the day: how do I convince my idiot workaholic son to stop worrying about me and just leave to Spain with his new flame?”

 

Doflamingo’s apartment was located at the upper hills of the city, with glass walls in three directions from east to west, while the north was sitting in the stone of the hill.   
His morning ritual consisted of coffee and his own version of tapas while sitting in a bean bag in his living room and watching the sunrise.  
The sound of U2 was softly playing in the background, when suddenly it was interrupted by his telephone.   
“Goddammit,” Doflamingo mumbled, when he tried to fight himself out of his seat. He hated calls during mornings. He searched for the speaker in his house and ultimately found it in his kitchen behind the fruit basket.  
“Yes?” he barked into the speaker.  
 _“Doffy, it’s Vergo.”_  
“Vergo, it’s sunrise, and my coffee is getting cold.”  
 _“I know. Just now I got Miss Ivana Emporio in my line. Crocodile’s mother. She told me that she need to discuss an urgent topic with you regarding her son. Shall I pass the call through?”_  
Doflamingo was alert in seconds. An urgent topic regarding Crocodile?   
He had seen the man last time when he had brought him to the hospital when Ivana had woken up. After the troubles of the night and his hurried decision, to stay with Crocodile and watch after him, he had felt kind of guilty on the second day to intrude so much into the designer’s life, and had been afraid at the same time, that he was constantly dancing on the line of being too much.  
And there also was their heavy making out, which they hadn’t talked after all, even if Doflamingo could understand, that Crocodile had more serious matters now in mind.  
But still that didn’t explain why his mother wanted to talk to him. Had Crocodile told her about him. And if yes, what had he been telling her.  
“Okay, put her through.” He decided. There was no beating around the bush. Whatever it was, he would find out fastest by talking to her.  
A clicking sound came through the speaker and then Doflamingo heard Crocodile’s mothers voice for the first time.  
 _“Good morning, Mister Donquichotte! I hope I don’t intrude your precious morning.”_  
Her voice was a pleasant dark nuance, and when she spoke she rolled the ‘r’ like a feline.  
Crocodile had the same treats, and alone that resemblance made his mother rise quit high on his list of favorite people beside the fact that she simply was his mother.  
“Not at all, Miss Emporio. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Though of course I wonder, how I deserve such honor this early in the morning?” He felt a smile spread on his lips.   
_“Oh, what a correct and polite use of words. I can see, why my son piqued an interest in you.”_ A slight chuckle followed Ivana’s words through the speaker.   
Doflamingo felt the warmth rise in his cheeks. So Crocodile had talked to her about him. God, he needed to know what he had been telling her. So far, Crocodile was a mystery with seven seals for him, and he thirsted desperately after every detail he could get out from his longtime admired idol.  
“I feel flattered, Miss Emporio. May I know the reason for your call?” He jumped right to the topic.  
Ivana’s voice changed into a conspiring mode.   
_“Oh yes. I want you to visit me, this evening, preferably. And no word to my son about it, it’s a little surprise.”_  
“Oh… okay?” Oh god. What had Crocodile told her?!  
 _“Well then, it’s an appointment. I look forward to it! Bye, honey!”_  
Doflamingo looked at the speaker asking himself what kind of hurricane had washed over him right now.

 

In the evening he stood in front of the hospital, wearing a brand new suit, flowers in his hand and-  
-he felt like an idiot.  
The whole day he had practically killed himself over how he should present himself to Ivana.   
Vergo had told him today, that the woman was a legend in the celebrity world starting out as a nameless model, then marrying the real estate mogul Salvatore Emporio, which ended in a scandal of him having not only several side affairs but also contacts to the Italian mafia. After his sudden death which was most likely an assassination by the mafia (no one really knew the truth until now), Ivana had already vanished with her 7-year old child from the surface of the world, only to arrive several years later as the owner of an auction house, that she sold for an enormous fortune.  
It was believed she didn’t touch even a cent of the funds that were left for her after the death of her husband.  
Doflamingo knees were weak as he realized that he would meet a woman which didn’t like to fuck around, and he had to make it good; after all, one thing he knew: Crocodile had a very strong bond to his mother, And Doflamingo was keen on using every opportunity to find a way to that man’s heart.

Nervously he fidgeted from foot to foot, until the nurse finally gave him permission to enter Ivana’s room.  
When he went inside, he found her sitting upright in her bed, a knitted sweater with waterfall collar falling from her neck and perfectly styled hair.  
“Oh my, your looking even more stunning en natural.” She chuckled and gave him her hand.  
Doflamingo accepted with a light kiss on her knuckles. “Miss Emporiova. I am glad to meet you.”  
With both hands he handed her the flowers. “A little appreciation for your invitation.”  
Ivana accepted with a thankful smile and laid them down in her lap.   
“First sit down. I think you were dying the whole day to know what I want to ask you.”  
Doflamingo raised a shy smile. “Well, you hit the nail on the head.”  
“Oh, I am famous for doing that. And many other things.”   
Her conspiring smile became a favorite for Doflamingo in an instant and he relaxed a bit in a comfortable position in his chair.  
“So… I heard you want to take my son to Spain while his poor mother has to bore herself to death in a hospital.”  
Did he say comfortable? Scratch that part.  
Trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat, he defended himself: “Miss, I would never even think about such a thing when his honorable mother is in such a state.”  
“Aha? Which state?” Her piercing words were like talons gripping his chest.  
“Well. Uh… uhm. Your health condition, of course, I mean not that you’re still capable of doing things yourself, I mean-“  
Ivana broke out in a laughing fit that shook her whole body.  
Yep, Doflamingo felt like an idiot.  
“Oh my god, you are just too cute!” she giggled between laughs. “Relax, honey, I was just playing with you. An old woman needs some entertainment in such an environment, you understand.” She soothingly patted his shoulder as an apology.  
“Well, now I’m relieved.” Doflamingo answered, not fully convinced. Crocodile’s mother was scary, scary!  
Ivana’s hand still rested on his shoulder. “Oh you can be. And don’t worry, if anything, then I fully support your idea of giving him a break.”  
“Excuse me?”  
Ivana’s hand came down. “You heard me right.”  
Her body language changed back to serious in an instant.  
“I know my request may be a bit over the top considering we just only met, but I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t let go of the plan of taking Crocodile on a vacation.”  
Doflamingo blinked, once, twice.   
“Miss Ivana… I don’t think that it’s up to me to decide if your son-, well if Crocodile comes with me or not. I mean, it’s not as if we’re that close…”  
“Mister Donquichotte, please. As I know it you had quite the rendezvous while I had a heart attack. I wouldn’t classify that as ‘not that close’.”  
Doflamingo wanted to bury himself somewhere quickly. So Crocodile had talked to her. Oh god. What did she think of him? That night he had acted like a horny teenager, finally able to put his hands on his longtime crush and he was fucking sure that Crocodile had reported the incident exactly like that to his mother. He hid his eyes behind his hand.  
Ivana seemed fairly amused by the gesture. “Don’t dwell too much on it, I know everything what is going on around me and my family. And also, do you really think I would push you to take my son with you if I would’ve thought bad about that little hanky-panky?”  
Doflamingo still wasn’t able to show her his face fully, which by now surely was graced with a red shade.  
“Please don’t call it like that.” He winced.  
Ivana seemed ready to do the exact opposite for a moment, but then she reconciled.  
“Well, coming back to topic: As I see it, you definitely harbor an interest in my son. Is that right?”  
Doflamingo raised his white flag mentally and nodded.   
“And you are perfectly reflected on the fact how a gay relationship could influence your own career right?”  
He finally took his hand from his eyes and looked Ivana straight in the eye. It was the only question until now, where he wouldn’t have to hesitate on answering it.   
He straightened his arms in his jacket and gave the same answer, that already beard in his mind since his 18-year-old-self had seen Crocodiles face side by side with his dresses. “I am ready to face everything as long as it allows me being able to stand by your son’s side.”  
He held Ivana’s stare, which was thorough and long.  
“You really are strangely much engrossed with him, aren’t you?”  
Doflamingo didn’t need to think twice about an answer. “Yes.”  
“Live is not always a beautiful ride into the sunset, Mr. Donquichotte. You will face situations, which will ask much more from you, then you can imagine.”  
“Yes.”  
Ivana nodded, satisfied with his answers. “Well then, what are you still doing here? If you’re fast enough, you may be able to still catch Crocodile in his office.”  
She waved him away and Doflamingo thanked her for her hospitality. Outside of the hospital he called himself a cab and told the driver to take the fastest way to the _**EMPORIO**_ Tower.


	4. IV

\- Spain 1999 -

Crocodile stood on the terrace that was over and over decorated with daffodils and orchids. The stone floor under his feet was still warm from the sunshine that had basked it the whole day and he stretched out the bare toes of his bare feet on it.  
From the inside of the house he could hear Flamenco music und Doflamingo working in the kitchen to make some tapas for the evening.  
Somewhere out in the night he could hear the waves rolling on the beach accompanied by the chirping of cicadas.  
“Like the view?” Doflamingo came out of the door, holding a wooden plate with food and a bottle of wine in his hands. “Could you get the glasses? They’re on the kitchen counter.”  
“Oh. Of course” Crocodile went in and got the Item which Doflamingo had asked him for along with a corkscrew.   
The walls of the house were a mosaic of stone walls and the decoration was held in colorful warm shades, which gave a relaxing feeling. Everything just invited you to sit down and take a break from your life.  
Out on the terrace, Doflamingo had lighted some lampions which hung from the ceiling.   
“Ready for the big surprise?” He asked Crocodile who placed the assets on the garden table.   
Crocodile asked himself what Doflamingo meant by ‘surprise’, when the man flipped a switch and suddenly the whole garden which had until now lied in the dark of the night, was glowing.  
Crocodile’s eyes widened at the beautiful view that was sprawled out before him.   
The light came from the swimming pool in the middle in the garden and broke through the water just right to illuminate all the plants in their variation of colors with a soft glimmer.  
“It’s beautiful.” Crocodile commented what he saw.  
Doflamingo stood next to him. “I’m glad you like it. To be honest I wanted to tell you the whole flight about this scenery but I figured that it would be more exciting to have it in reality in front of you.”  
They sat down on the garden chairs, enjoying the view and consuming Doflamingo’s tapas and the wine he had brought.  
Crocodile complimented him for his food and Doflamingo thanked him, and explained that he was used to cook for himself as a teenager.   
“My adoptive mom was constantly away for work, So the duty came onto me naturally.”  
“You have an adoptive mother?”  
Doflamingo nodded. “Yeah. Well more like an adoptive guardian, but I see her as my mother either way. Blood bonds are not exactly a thing I am keen on.”  
Crocodile was once again reminded to the parallel to his own family. He decided to tell Doflamingo about his own little colorful household.  
Doflamingo snickered at the tails of the three youngest boys. “I can imagine you being good with kids.”  
Crocodile mimicked his grin. “Oh really? Most people would rather think, that I am an absolute child hater.”  
“No. You are a kind person, Crocodile. Everyone who gets to know you a bit more can clearly see that. You can see your own flaws and constantly work on them to improve yourself. Such a thing takes not only a lot of strength but also courage and kindness.”  
Crocodile shook his head. “You sure have your way with words. How do you know that this is true?”  
Doflamingo laid his hand on the table extremely close to Crocodiles. “Because, from the beginning on, no matter how far I pushed, you were always kind to me.”  
Their pinkies touched and Crocodile tried not to concentrate not on it but the glowing garden in front of him.  
Doflamingo’s voice was sweet honey in his ears, and once again he was at the point where he was afraid to let himself fall into his pace.  
“I am glad that you let me continue staying by your side.”  
With that words he crossed their pinkies and Crocodile could feel the familiar warmth spreading in him, like so many times before.  
It was still a bit scary. The last few days Doflamingo had pulled a stunt together in a great conspiracy with his mother and Paula by cancelling every appointment and even go as far as booking the flight tickets on his mother’s name and her paying for it, just so Crocodile would finally take a vacation.  
When Crocodile had noticed that he wasn’t getting out of this number anymore, he had arranged himself with the thought of leaving his mother alone for two weeks and going with Doflamingo to Spain.  
Another arrangement with himself had been a silent promise to try and get closer to Doflamingo.  
True, none of them had spoken about the incident on Saturday night again, and to be honest, Crocodile wouldn’t know how to address that topic properly. Looking back now, it had been much to rushed and early what they had down, and a little mean hidden part inside him had thanked his mother for her stroke.  
It had prevented him from doing something, which he would’ve had clearly regretted in the morning, which they both had regretted.  
Now, after he had seen that his mother’s health wasn’t in life threatening danger anymore, he had been able to reflect on the whole situation and his own feelings in particular.  
And no matter how many scenarios he had played through in his head, the outcome had been always the same: he wanted Doflamingo. He wanted that charming bastard, that puppeteer with that overwhelming smile, who knew always exactly what to tell him to make him feel like he just deserved to be everything in his world.  
And he was here in Spain, together with him and ready to give Doflamingo an honest chance: not as a partner in his project but as a partner in his life.  
He tightened his pinky around Doflamingo’s, like a little assurance of his silent promise.

 

The next few days Doflamingo took him to various trip around the island by car, showed him the national park at the Calla Millor and the Iglesia nueva of Son Servera. The church which had been never completed and therefore lacked an entrance as well as a whole rooftop. Crocodile felt heavily inspired by the designs and forms that the masonry in combination with the plants growing naturally inside the walls was giving and took many pictures.  
Another day, Doflamingo booked a little yacht for the both of them and they drove out on the ocean to try to find some dolphins. They had luck and both of them stood at the rail marveling at the whole dolphin school which was even jumping out of the water.  
When the weather was especially warm, they just lazied around at Doflamingo’s pool, slurping Cocktails and letting their bodies get crispy brown by the Sun of Mallorca.  
With each day Crocodile could feel himself more and more relaxed like he hadn’t been since a long time. He even caught himself fooling around with Doflamingo like dumb little boys and spinning wild ideas about the opening party of the perfume in September.   
“We could smear your whole body in a gold paste and let you simply come naked on the carpet.” Crocodile giggled one evening while lying face down on sun lounger.  
“I don’t really fancy the thought of my junk being covered in gold glitter.” Doflamingo countered with a mad grin on his lips, lying in the pool on a lilo. “But it would surely get some nice pictures. Considering that they could use none of it in their boulevard magazines.”  
Crocodile snorted. “All the fucking greed statues which hadn’t got castrated by the church have their junk showing and no one gives a fuck printing those in magazines. We could simply let you stand on a podest without moving and tell the people that it’s a statue of yourself.”  
“Hahaha, imagine someone walking by and I have to sneeze!” They broke out in laughter at the thought of the poor dude who would experience that shock.  
“Oh, by the way: I planned a little party tomorrow evening. Mick’s on the island, along with some of my other close friends. I figured that it was a good chance to introduce you to my most important people.”  
Crocodile hid his blush in the stretchy material of the sun lounger. He figured that maybe he’d never stop reacting like that to Doflamingo’s absolute and utter sweet words.  
“Sounds like a good plan.” He mumbled and turned his face around so he could look into Doflamingo’s face.   
His heart jumped nearly out at the pure admiration Doflamingo’s eyes admitted towards him. 

 

The first one to come on the weekend was Jora, the housekeeper of Doflamingo’s Finca and “my aunt by souls” As Doflamingo described her. Together with her 12-year old daughter Souza who everyone just called ‘Sugar’, they stood the whole morning in the kitchen and cooking. “It’s old saying”, Jora had explained to Crocodile with a thick accent, “when you put good food on your table, good people will come into your house.”  
Later the day, Pika and Trebol came around. They both were older men in their late 40s, and apparently famous flamenco guitarists in Spain. Of course they started to nest themselves in the living room, playing the whole day while making jokes in a fast Spanish that Crocodile could only understand up to 20 %.   
That was another thing, that came positive on Crocodiles “Pro-Vacation” list: he was finally able to fine tune his language knowledge, which had become quite rusty over the years, even if that became quite a hard task around the “old grampys”, as Doflamingo called them.  
In the flow of the evening more and more people came, and Crocodile had a hard time to remember all the names: Mr. Machvise, who had been the director in Doflamingo’s first Spanish movie, Sugar’s older brother Dellinger, then Doflamingo’s old colleagues from his debut series, a beauty named Monet and a charismatic man with the artist name Senor Pink.  
Under all the new faces, he was surprised to also meet a face that he already knew. “Miss Violet!” he was surprised to see the oldest daughter of the Dressrosa company here. Truth, she had been Doflamingo’s co-actress in Doflamingo’s record-breaking movie, but Crocodile didn’t know they were that close.  
“Crocodile! So you are the rumored guest of the party!” She greeted him with a warm hug and went with him to the kitchen, where Jora already greeted her with kisses on her cheeks and a Sangria.  
“Rumored guest of the party?” crocodile asked her with a raised eyebrow.  
Viola put her long black hair to over her shoulder to the front. “Oh? So he didn’t tell you? That little joker was jumping around the subject the whole last week when he told us he would come with his ‘special person’ to Mallorca. We all flipped our shit – sorry for the choice of words – at this information, because he never brought someone here before. Jora was already convinced that he had pregged a woman from his industry.”  
Crocodile nearly choked on the information which Viola had provided him. Special person, his mind echoed over and over.  
“Well, it’s certainly a surprise to see that it’s you.”  
“so that’s why everyone was hugging me and grabbing my cheeks… they all think I’m their son-in-law.” Crocodile joked sarcastically. “that Doflamingo… god.”  
“so… is it true? You and Doffy – you are a thing?” Viola asked with her natural curiosity.  
Crocodile opened his mouth without knowing what answer to give her, when suddenly he heard loud clapping from the living room.  
 _“Everyone! Please listen to me for a while.”_ Doflamingo said in perfect Spanish. Crocodile had heard him today speaking his mother tongue several times, and it sounded surprisingly familiar in his ears.   
He gathered together with Viola and the rest in the big living room, and even Pika and Trebol stopped playing their guitars.  
 _“First, I am so happy to see everyone again after such along break. And thank you all for gathering here. Especially Mick, who extra took the long and exhausting flight from the other side of the world – Madrid – to here.”_  
Everyone was laughing and Mike pulled a somewhat proud grimace.  
 _“But I am also happy to introduce you all to someone who became a very important person for me in the last few days.”_ The laughter dies down, and suddenly Crocodile felt like all eyes in the room were on him.  
 _“Crocodile, I’m going to continue speak in Spanish, if that’s okay for you.”_ Crocodile gave his okay and Doflamingo ushered him to get at his side.   
_“I know that you know that I consider everyone here in this room part of my family.”_  
 _“Except Juanita!”_ Someone threw in and everyone laughed again.  
“An inside joke” Doflamingo explained it to Crocodile in English who stood a bit irritated there.   
“I’ll explain later.” He added with a grin.  
 _“Okay, okay! Please, let me continue.”_ Everyone calmed down again.  
 _“Every one of you helped me to get my dream become reality, on one way or another. And I will never forget that. And even though I am still one of the youngest here, I hope you all accept my decisions, to add another person to our big little family.  
A person, that became my idol when I barely started in the acting world, and who made me work harder than anyone, just so I could stand side by side with them one day.”_  
Doflamingo turned around to Crocodile whose face color must’ve resembled that one of a tomato by now. Doflamingo praising him and Doflamingo praising him in front of the people he called family were a whole different house number.  
 _“Crocodile, I know you don’t like it, when I flatter you endlessly.”_  
 _“That may be true.”_ Crocodile was able to scratch the last bits of Spanish from the empty floor of his brain together.  
The living room was entirely quiet and Crocodile couldn’t ignore that the situation has something of a proposal.  
‘Dear Lord,’ he thought, ‘I am not ready for that. Yet.’  
 _“But I want you to know that you mean more to me than you can imagine. And I would be delighted, if you would become a part of my family, so I can stay with you for a bit longer.”_  
Oh god, that was more horrible and beautiful than a marriage proposal.  
His eyes were looking between Doflamingo and his family members wo looked at him, maybe the same on edge like he felt right now.  
 _“Yes. I mean I will. Oh god.”_ He turned his face away and for once he was glad about the cheering of the crowd around him, as it gave him a reason to hide his red face, while everyone was raising their glasses and Crocodile could swear that Pika and Trebol were playing a flamenco version of the Wedding march.

“Still alive?” Doflamingo asked him an hour later, as he handed him a cigar. “Here, from Senor Pink. He harbors the same tastes like you in the tobacco field, it seems.”  
Crocodile thanked him for the treat and waved to Senor Pink on the other side of the room who simply gave him a thumbs up and a wink with one of his eye.  
After Doflamingo’s glorious speech he had been passed around from family member to family member and everyone had been talking to him in fast Spanish and right now his head spinned from all the questions he had have to answer.  
“Do I really want to know what kind of impression they have us now?” Crocodile sighed.  
“Would it matter?” Crocodile starred at Doflamingo who was totally unfazed.  
“I told you in the Baratié, didn’t I? Those are my feelings, and I’m not ashamed of them. And my family knows about my admiration for you for a long time.”  
“Apropos family”, Crocodile tried to change the subject, because it did things to him, “your adoptive mother, isn’t she here?”  
Doflamingo shook his head. “Ah, no. She’s currently trying herself out in a new field of expertize. But the Finca originally belonged to her. I spend many summer of my youth here. It was kind of nice being so close to my original home after… well.”  
Crocodile sensed a bit of an uneasiness in Doflamingo’s voice.  
“You don’t have to talk about it.”  
“Ah no… that’s not it… Just.” He looked to his – well now maybe their – family.   
Trebol and Pika accompanied Jora who was singing a Flamenco song while Dellinger was clapping his feet in the rhythm to it. Meanwhile Monet and Viola had started what seemed like a Sangria drinking contest with an old man which Crocodile faintly remembered as Lao Ji. It was loud and he was certain that they entertained everyone in a one-mile radius around them.  
“Let’s get to outside to the pool. It’s more calm there.”

 

The water of the pool was lukewarm and Doflamingo was sprawled out on the terrace, the stars gleaming in the distant sky his feet dipping into the liquid.   
“When I told you about my fascination with your dress, because of the way it looked, that wasn’t the whole story.” He began. His eyes were looking in the distant night sky as he seemed to gather as what seemed the bits and pieces of his faraway past.  
“It wasn’t just how the dress looked. The moment I saw that model with that hair and that make up and that clothes on the stage… for a brief moment, I thought I’d seen my mother. As in my real mother.”  
Crocodile sat down next to him, glass of Sangria in one hand, while he passed another to Doflamingo. His feet dangled next to the actors in the glowing water of the pool. Thankfully, the Doflamingo accepted the alcohol.  
“What happened to her? “, Crocodile asked.  
Doflamingo’s eyes went to him. Distant laughter rode on the wind to the terrace where they were sitting.  
He was silent for a moment, the words forming in his mind seeming a very different task for him.  
“She was... Well, we were...or rather we became very poor. Before that we were living in Spain, in Tarragona. We had a beautiful house right at the cliffs in front of the sea.“  
'Tarragona', Crocodile repeated in his head. Somewhere in his mind a bell rang.  
“Then, someday my father decided to give everything up and to move to Brazil. That was around the time when the coffee market boomed again. Everyone thought that he went crazy.”  
He took a sip of his wine and continued.  
“In Spain we lived in the favor of our mother’s father, whom our house belonged to and who gave us the wealth we've been living in until then. When he heard of our plans to leave the house, he wasn’t very delighted by the news and threw us out. I was 8 years old by that time.”  
Crocodile watched the man’s blurry eyes which were staring into the skies nothingness.  
“We went to Brazil. I didn't know why back then, and I can't even remember my father's reasons. I only knew that I hated him for this. Later in Brazil, everything seemed to be good. Even if my mother’s father had hated us, he gave my mother a small fortune, which we used to buy a house. It wasn't as luxurious as our old villa, and I remember I was nagging so fucking much about it.”  
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.   
“Looking back now I think I should've shut up considering what had been still to come.”  
Crocodile watched the man sinking deeper into his memories. It was the first time that Doflamingo opened up as deep as that, and he was afraid, he would break this moment if he replied him. So he just let him continue his story without interrupting verbally.  
“We had the worst timing to emigrate to brazil. Just as my father made a good founding in the business, the coffee market dropped again and brought my father a horribly great amount of debts. He lost his work and we lost our house. My mother tried to beg through her whole family for money. It was... god it was so fucking shameful.”  
An arms was now covering Doflamingo’s face. The next words where silent and it seemed heavy for him to keep telling his story.  
“We ended up in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, poor and dirty like rats. From one day to another we were shit poor and searching for food in the dumpsters at the outer rings of the city. And it didn’t get better only worse. I think, we hit rock bottom, when my mother got sick and died. My father’s suicide, who couldn’t cope with the situation anymore followed two years later, but somehow I was so numbed down to that point that I couldn’t care anymore back then.“  
An urge to pat the head of the younger man take hold of Crocodile. It went by unnoticed by Doflamingo who seemed to be lost in his memory.  
It was quiet again. “You went through a lot.” Crocodile didn’t what else he could say besides that empty line.  
Doflamingo didn’t move.  
“Please blame it on the alcohol.” He murmured and took Crocodiles hand into his, entwining their fingers.  
Crocodile nodded and hoped for the same.

 

It was deep in the night when the last guest left. Not that Crocodile or Doflamingo had taken proper notice of it. Their hands still entwined, they had chattered the whole night through. Crocodile asking small questions about how Doflamingo’s life before their great misfortune. Doflamingo recalled the little things he still remembered and asked questions about Crocodiles life in return.  
“I remember being in Spain once too… it might have been even Tarragona.” Crocodile mused as Doflamingo told him about the colorful houses and the little paths between old buildings.  
He considered himself pretty drunk at this point. Everything was buzzing sweetly around him and the water felt like very warm around his legs. Somehow Doflamingo always managed to coax him into this state. Or maybe he just wanted to this to himself so he had an excuse for the million butterflies fluttering through his whole body.  
He sprawled himself next to Doffy. Somewhere along their conversation Doflamingo had turned his hand to him and Crocodile could stare non-stop into those ice-blue orbs.  
He could try to denied it, but Doflamingo’s direct look made things with his body. Especially now that he was in such a wasted state.  
Suddenly an old memory popped up in his brain, pieces of it, so to speak.  
“There was a boy.” He mumbled.   
“Dirty blond hair. Missing tooth. Shades. And he was fucking rude.” The features came out of him in an incoherent string of words.  
“Somehow I remember right now that he dragged through the streets of Tarragona to an old Amphitheatre, or something like that…”   
Doflamingo’s eyes grew wide.   
“Wait. Please don’t tell me there was an opera singer in that theatre.”   
He ended Crocodiles thought.  
“Yeah. How’d ‘you know that?”  
“Black hair, porcelain skin and-“  
“… a goddess’ voice.” Crocodile ended Doflamingo’s sentence in return.  
“Yeah.”  
“Singing-“  
“-the Habanero from Carmen.”  
More and more pieces of his memory came into place and then he remembered falling in the dirt of the catacombs if not the boy _Doffy had been his name_ had caught him, ice blue orbs staring at him like the ones that were staring at him now, wide open, realization hitting them both simultaneously.  
Suddenly Doflamingo started to giggle.  
“Fucking shit, Crocodile. That was my adoptive mother, Tsuru Bennings. _I dragged you into that theater._ ”  
Tsuru.  
The whole memory came raining down on Crocodile like a hurricane.  
Tsuru Bennings. Of course.  
Crocodile felt pretty sober suddenly. _Of shit fucking course_. The famous opera singer from the last artista gala he had attended. And of course Doflamingo would’ve accompanied his adoptive mother.  
Doflamingo. Doffy. The little blond boy which had run him over in that smelly Tapas bar in Tarragona. The run through the little paths in the sticky heat of Spain.

_L’amour!_

The muddy dungeons of the Amphitheatre. Ice blue staring into his soul, the face so near.

_L’amour!_

_**‘Tsuru is a goddess now, isn’t she??”** _

His enchantment.

_L’amour!_

_**‘Oi Doffy! Don’t trouble the grown-ups!’** _

A warm hand holding his, guiding him through the music to its source.

_L’amour!_

 

“You.”  
This time Crocodile’s head wasn’t spinning due to the alcohol but the information intake.  
“It was – shit it was really fucking- FUCKING YOU!”   
Doflamingo meanwhile couldn’t stop to giggle.   
“You, hihihihi, you were that snobby boy oh god, hahahahaaaa, absolutely nothing changed” he managed to press out between laughs.  
“Stop laughing! You!” Crocodile gave him a clap on his side with his free hand.   
It didn’t manage to cover neither the smile on his lips neither his rapidly beating heart.  
After a while Doflamingo calmed down.  
“Well if that isn’t fate.” He concluded with an ironic smile. “Meeting you again and even coming here to Spain again with you. And despite of your sometimes still-snobby attitude”, Crocodile considered hitting him a second time, “you became even more beautiful. Would I have known as a child, what your existence would do to me, I would’ve made you mine back then.”  
Their heads were only a few inches away, and the alcohol came happily back forward in Crocodile’s head.  
“What keeps you away from it now?” He asked with a dry voice.  
“Nothing. And you?”  
“I want to kiss you now.” Crocodile thought out loud.  
“I’d love that.”  
“This I’m sure of.”  
And then their lips met. The kiss was soft, lazy, so much more different than their first one. Crocodile wondered if Doflamingo had practiced for himself. Or maybe he had always been such a good kisser?  
He wondered if he had should tried kissing him when they had meat each other as kids.  
Doflamingo rolled over and was now laying half on top of Crocodile.  
“You are so beautiful.” He mumbled, his free hand placed on Crocodile’s heart. Crocodile asked himself if Doflamingo could feel the rapid beating.  
“So beautiful” the man only repeated and sank down on him in favor of kissing him more.   
Crocodile took his feet out of the pool to angle his legs and urged Doflamingo silently to lie between them.  
“Are you inviting me?” Doflamingo asked between kisses, his hands sliding down to Crocodiles legs which were holding his hips. Crocodiles thighs were grabbed and a moan escaped his lips.  
“What are you thinking?” Crocodile managed to get out between kisses and huffs, the sarcasm strong in his voice.  
“Right now? Directions to my bed.” Doflamingo answered honestly. His mouth started to wander to Crocodiles weak spot. He was still fascinated about Doflamingo’s ability to find all his sensitive places in a matter of seconds. But he had no time to wonder further about it, as he felt kisses and licks on the sensitive area behind his ears.  
“Aaaah~” he moaned out shamelessly. Well, blame the alcohol. Doflamingo got away from him, an award-winning smile on his lips.  
He got up, pulling Crocodile with him, whose first instinct was to get his arms around that man again to exchange some more kisses and other pleasant things.  
But Doflamingo instead took his hands into his, starting to kiss the knuckles tenderly and slow. “I want to do it right this time.” He murmured. With his hands still in the younger man’s grip, Crocodile was pulled along back to the house and to the bedroom, following just all to willingly.  
Because, why not?  
Doflamingo’s secure hold on his hands was so inviting to let go of every responsibility Crocodile thought he ever had. It was just so easy, to let himself fall completely into the actor’s open arms and pace and to accept everything the man had ready for him.  
He remembered his first time with Viper and Laki. The same trust, the same feeling of falling into a comforting darkness. However, there was a difference. A feeling that tingled deep down in his stomach, a fondness of the man Doflamingo Donquichotte as a whole which he wasn’t able to understand or even furthermore – to explain. All it took was a squeeze of this warm hands to secure him, that everything would be good and wonderful.  
And this night, Crocodile just wanted to believe exactly this.

The heat of Doflamingo’s bedroom made his breath come short and his whole body sticky with sweat. The cool white sheets soon were drenched in their body liquids, crumbled and tossed around, sticking to them like a second skin.   
Crocodile couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was far too caught up on the body worship Doflamingo was performing on him.  
His tongue and hands were on his pecks, licking and massaging his muscles and nipples, placing kisses here and there, leaving not even the littlest crook untouched. On top of that he used his whole body to grind into Crocodiles, creating a sweet and yet unsatisfying friction on his erected member. The thought of his precum on Doflamingo’s abs over which he had lusted so often after in his private dreams was enough to drive him mad. He wanted to do something, but the body worshipping he was receiving from Doflamingo made him unable to do anything beside gripping the bed post over him for sweet mercy.  
Meanwhile his lover was letting out little praises between the occupations of his mouth, cooing how beautiful Crocodile was, how delicious his skin tasted. Crocodile answered en masse, pants and pleas leaving his mouth for Doflamingo to just DO something, ANYTHING, so he could get release.  
“Of course, of course”, Doflamingo ensured him, finally making his way southwards, his lips painting wavy lines on Crocodiles stomach of admiration and promises. When he reached Crocodiles erection, he stared at it in awe. “Look”, he urged Crocodile as he massaged his inner thighs, “look how wet you are. So beautiful.”  
Crocodile could only moan as he stared down at himself, cock staying proudly in the air and Doflamingo’s face so near to it, so full of love and admiration.  
If he had been just 10 years younger he’d been sure he’d come on the spot just from this visual.  
He was glad he wasn’t 10 years younger.  
With a suggestive roll of his hips he urged Doflamingo to set his promises into action – and receive he did and plenty.  
Wet lips encircled him, swallowed him down greedily, as if his cock was delicious candy to Doflamingo, who worked him more than skillfully. With another long moan, Crocodile could almost feel his eyes roll back and his hips snapping up. Doflamingo was holding his hips down in advance thankfully, but a little wink of his eyes spoke volumes to Crocodile.  
Good to know the bastard side wasn’t entirely lost in Doflamingo – Crocodile would’ve missed something otherwise.  
His nose dipped down to nuzzle Crocodile’s erection, while his hands slowly wandered off to deeper regions of his body.  
“Forgive me for the timing,” he suddenly said, voice low and erotic, his breath at the base of Crocodile’s Cock and then, “but I really, really love you.”  
“Oh goooooD!” Crocodile moaned in a long drag at the REALLY BAD timing, just as his cock was again in the wet hole of Doflamingo’s mouth.   
He didn’t know if he should answer, hell, he didn’t know if he even could answer, because Doflamingo was effectively reducing him to bits and pieces with his skill. And just when he thought, that he couldn’t take anymore, he felt a finger, at his entrance, slick and wet and entering him-  
With stars dancing in front of his eyes, Crocodile came with a loud shout.  
The world turned red for the eternity of a few seconds, and when he came back to planet earth, he could see a much too satisfied face licking come from his lips hovering over him.  
“Well, if that wasn’t the greatest compliment I could receive from you.” He cooed and Crocodile rolled his eyes.  
“I’m sorry…” he mumbled. Just when he thought he wasn’t a horny teenager, this had to happen. Coming early like a fucking 12-year-old.  
“Apologize for what?”  
He looked back to Doflamingo who blinked down his body. Crocodile followed his stare when he could see it; he was still hard.  
“If anything, it makes the following even easier.” And with a shit eating grin, he watched him swiping of some of his cum and using it as additional lube for stretching his hole with two fingers by now.   
Crocodile nearly screamed at the oversensitivity of his body, but he would be a liar if he would tell Doflamingo to stop.   
Those fingers worked him open like a pro, and in only a few seconds he was back to the edge again, moaning and trembling at Doflamingo’s expertise.  
Said man came down on him, kissing and sucking on his lips, his teeth sinking in his throat. Crocodile put his hands to use, wanting to give back what he received in spades, and he raked his nails down Doflamingo’s body, grabbed his hair, pulled and pressed him close to him, closer, closer, their sweat-covered skin sticking them together.  
And then, as Doflamingo entered him, his cock opening Crocodile’s whole body, he could hear him moaning deep and long, sending shudders down his spine. Physically restraining himself not come early his arms searched again for the body above him, pressed him down again on him.   
His senses were by now addicted to everything that was Doflamingo, to his sent, his voice, the feeling of his skin under his fingertips and the look of his eyes, clouded with lust as he started to move.  
Doflamingo’s trusts sent his head spinning and unable to grip a single thought. He gripped his lover above him, holding on to him, until he felt it again, his orgasm building deep inside him.  
If Doflamingo had shitty timing, then Crocodile’s was even shittier. “I love you, I love you.” The words were falling from his lips like a waterfall while his feet were pushing and begging Doflamingo deeper inside him, harder faster.  
Moans were mixing with “I love you”’s until the world became white again.

 

The first thing he noticed when he slowly woke up, was the warm body, which was pressed full length to his body. Next was the smell of fresh coffee and then, lips kissing the back of his head.   
“Mmmmh~…”  
“Have I woken you up?” The whisper came from behind him.   
A satisfied smile stretched on his lips. “You made coffee?” he asked in return.  
“Yeah. I was already awake but you slept so peacefully I didn’t dare to wake you up. You have a cute face when you sleep.” Doflamingo added and Crocodile could feel him laugh softly into his hair.   
Slowly and with care he turned around in Doflamingo’s arms.  
“Morning, princess.” Crocodile only managed half of the grin he wanted to show.  
“Morning” he mumbled back.   
He let himself enjoy the silence like that until his tummy growled a bit, signalizing it’s wants.  
With a bit of regret, he left Doflamingo’s arms and searched for the source of the coffee sent.   
On his nightstand was a whole plate with coffee and sliced fruits.  
“You made definitely more than just coffee.” Crocodile mused as he felt his lover sit up beside him.  
Lover. The word rolled around pleasantly in his head.  
“Well, can’t I take care of my boyfriend?” Doflamingo gave back and handed him his cup of coffee.  
“Boyfriend.” Yeah, that sounded even better.  
“If you want it, of course.”  
Crocodile could only smirk at the uncertain stench in Doflamingo’s voice. The man had made a much more embarrassing proposal the day before and now he was afraid of calling them boyfriends?  
“I want it.” He answered him. “All of it.”  
Relief washed over Doflamingo’s face and he sank down on Crocodile’s chest.   
“By the way, Senor Pink left you a few other cigars of that brand you liked, here. Wait a moment…. Here.” His hand went to the nightstand on his side and he have him the already cut cigar.   
Crocodile’s eyes blinked in excitement. He had had a small conversation with Pink yesterday and apparently the man owned a tobacco farm in Cuba and had access to many limited editions such as the one which was now lying in Crocodile’s hand.  
“Can I?” he asked Doflamingo, who shook his head but in agreement. “No problem. Lighter’s on the nightstand.”  
Crocodile grabbed the item and lit the cigar. The first drag was like the best after sex cigar he ever had.   
“You are making me a rotten man, Doffy...” Crocodile sighed contently, puffing out the smoke running his fingers through the blond roots behind warm ears. Doflamingo’s eyes perked up, a mischievous smile coming from his chest where his head lied.   
“Oh~? Is that so...” he purred back. His body rose a bit and he stole a kiss from Crocodiles lips. They're lips didn't really part.  
“Yes.” Crocodile whispered against the lips, turning just away enough to get the next inhale of Cuban tobacco. Then, he held in his breath.  
He didn't have to ask Doflamingo, who willingly got their lips together again, welcoming the smoke that got exhaled, swallowing it down, greedily, receiving everything just so well.  
One day, Crocodile was sure, this man would eat him up completely. And to be honest, he couldn't even mind half as much as he should.   
His lover’s lips left him and traveled down his body, leaving little pecks here and there on his skin. “Then how about I just spoil you even more rotten...” Doflamingo purred against his navel as he licked the skin like a silent promise.  
Before Crocodile could even voice any protest, Doflamingo’s head disappeared under the white thin covers and left his actions blind to Crocodiles eyes. Not that he had to see to know, what was happening.  
“Haaah...” Moans left his mouth and his hips rolled shamelessly against the wet lips, that encircled his manhood. He put the cigar carefully on the ashtray by the bed; he didn't trust himself enough to hold his composure when his boyfriends tongue worked wonders between his thighs, and if he already came to the pleasure to get a coffee, a smoke AND the best blowjob of his life first thing in the morning, he wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

The following days felt like a honeymoon for Crocodile. They were either sleeping, eating or having sex. The sudden granted possibility of touching and kissing the man whenever he wanted, even if Doffy – how he sometimes liked to call him now – was annoying, and even if he himself was a bit weary or pissed, opened new territory. And Crocodile enjoyed every second walking on it.

One time a pamphlet with a name he recognized flickered in his eye. They were sitting in the living room, the night a bit colder than usual, wrapped up in blankets in front of the fireplace and watching TV. The pamphlet lied at the lower desk of the coffee table in front of them, and with his curiosity made him take it.  
“You know that author? Corazon?” Crocodile asked with the pamphlet in his hand.  
Doflamingo didn’t take of his eyes from the TV screen. “He’s my younger brother.”  
Crocodiles mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ followed by the mental question, why Doflamingo had never told him about this.  
“If you are waiting for a tragic story, then forget it, Crocs. There is none.” Doflamingo gulped down the Whiskey in his glass and set it on the table beside them. His arms came around Crocodile, who laid in his lap and he nuzzled his cheek.  
“But nevertheless there IS a story.” Crocodile concluded. He put his cigar in the ashtray and turned a bit around to face Doflamingo better.  
Doflamingo seemed to think about what to say as he reached for the pamphlet.   
“My grandfather, you know, the one with the money, died shortly before my father’s suicide. Apparently it was part of his last will, that we should return to Spain and inherit his wealth.”  
He took a long sip. “We returned to Spain. There were none of our relatives left, so the only option was adoption.” A little snort came out by his little wordplay, but soon Doflamingo became serious again.  
“We were separated a short time before I met you in Tarragona. He was adopted by an Asian police officer from the states.”   
Something came up in Crocodile’s head. “Commissioner Bennings.”  
“Tsuru’s brother. Yeah. Want some Whiskey?” Doflamingo asked upon pouring himself a bit in his empty glass. He left the pamphlet on the table.  
Crocodile nodded absently. “Yeah... wait, then how come I didn’t meet him here? Don’t you two hold contact?”  
Doflamingo came to the bet giving one of the brandy glasses to Crocodile.   
“There was contact at the beginning. Phone calls, letters…. But distance is a little devil. With the time, the phone calls stopped. The letters became less. I received the last one when I was 13. The lines written down there so hollow and empty, I didn’t reply. I was young but even I could figure out that there wasn’t a special brotherly bond between us anymore. When I came to the states with 20 years, I thought that I would try to search for him. What I found out at the end was that he left the USA to get back to our home country.” His face scrunched a bit into a painful direction.  
“That sounds awful.” Crocodile commented.  
Doflamingo took the pamphlet in his hand again and gave it a long stare.  
“... I don't know.” It was barely a whisper, his eyes looking absently on the written lines. “When I found out, that he wasn’t here anymore, I tried to find the sadness inside me, but there wasn’t none. It was as important as losing a three-dollar umbrella. Somehow.”  
Crocodile was sure, that this was only half of the truth, but he didn’t try to pry into it further. After all, he couldn't have known, which problems the young actor had with his brother.  
“Did you know about him becoming this famous author?” Crocodile asked.  
Doflamingo's thumbs ran over the shining glass.  
“Yeah.”  
“Does he know about you?”  
“Probably.”  
Silence sank in after Doflamingo’s response and Crocodile figured to let it stay in the room. Instead of talking he chose to kiss his lover and cuddle with him on the couch.  
His cigar was already burned down, leaving traces of little smoke clouds in the air.  
Suddenly something caught on Crocodile’s nose.  
The stench that the burned cigar had left behind, mixed with something, Crocodile couldn’t really determine.  
He sniffed around to detect the smell, when his nose ended in Doflamingo’s shirt.  
His boyfriend watched him with a raised eyebrow. “Er… what exactly are you doing?” he asked a bit irritated.  
Softener. It was the fabric softener Doflamingo used in combination with the dried tobacco smell.  
And suddenly, also the last problem solved itself as he finally had the key to his perfume.  
“What fabric softener are you using?”

 

The holiday ended faster than Crocodile had expected and from time to time during their flight a little fear that his fresh relationship with Doflamingo wouldn’t withstand both of their stressful daily lives, nagged at the back at his brain.  
He tried to ignore it and concentrate on the new luck that he had found on the little Spanish island.

 

When they returned, the first visit was at Ivana, who had been discharged in the meantime and who laughed herself half dead, when he saw them coming hand in hand into her house.  
The boys instantly decided that Doflamingo was a “cool uncle” because he could beat the first Super Mario stage on their game boy in under five minutes.  
They also gave him the great honor of letting him on the secret of their “pirate ship”, and Crocodile couldn’t deny feeling like a proud dad, whose kids had accepted their new step dad.  
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face.” Ivana only said as a joke.  
But he didn’t know how. He was just so happy, he couldn’t stop.

 

Or course the paparazzi found out quickly about his new relationship, and Crocodile feared anew that their relationship would get ugly cracks because of all the rumors that would start to spread and also the shit talking in Doflamingo’s circle of work.  
But Paula and Vergo had proven themselves more than capable and made a contract with a renowned fashion magazine which would get all exclusive rights to the story of the campaign as well as the story of the two “lovebirds” as they soon were titled in the boulevard press.  
Either way the first few weeks were horrible and annoying and the paparazzi only died down after their first few awkward interviews together with the magazine.  
He let mostly Doflamingo talk, who had no restrains talking about his open admiration for Crocodile’s work in the beginning and then Crocodile himself.

By the filming start of the campaign Crocodile had the scent of his perfume ready and done and could finally start the production.   
Nothing much had changed since his vacation, only that after work was done, he either went home to be greeted by is lover who owned another key to his house by now, or let Mr. Zero drive him directly to Doflamingo’s apartment.

 

And by the time of September the 21st, they both stood proudly together, side by side in the shower of camera lights and presented not only a perfume, but the story of their love.

 

 

\- May 2000 -

 

“Can you fetch the phone for me?” Doflamingo asked, too lazy to stand up from his couch. Mick only shook his head at him and went to the kitchen to pick up the speaker which had gone off.  
They were sitting living room, watching the NBA playoffs. Outside it was raining heavily and Doflamingo had a free day. Crocodile wouldn’t get off from work until the evening, and seeing how he was boring himself somehow today, he let himself get talked into Mick’s favorite activity.  
It was quite in the kitchen and he couldn’t hear what was spoken, his eyes looking at the laughable adds on TV during the game break, when suddenly an interruption of the program was announced for some breaking news.  
As he heard the words of the news speaker, Doflamingo felt the life sucked out of him.

 

“Doffy!” Mick's face was pale as a ghost as he returned from the kitchen. “They... Crocodile, he-”  
He didn't finish the sentence. His friend was staring on his huge flat screen, which had been showing the NBA game just a few seconds earlier.  
Now, the screen was blinking, quick colors changing rapidly from dark to light, banners passing the screen with big fat letters, people yelling and a reporter trying to summarize Doflamingo’s biggest horror.

+++ FAMOUS DESIGNER CAUGHT IN MASSIVE CAR CRASH +++

+++ Crocodile Emporio is brought to a hospital severely injured by heavy car crash +++

+++ Eye witnesses say that an overtaking car lost footing on the ground and crashed into the designer+++

+++Designer Crocodile Emporio in serious life danger+++

+++ witness claims to have seen his left hand being nearly cut off+++

_“Just a few minutes a horrible car crash happened on the highway XXX. The famous designer Crocodile Emporio was cut off on the highway on a way to meet a client and....”_

Doflamingo didn’t know if he was breathing.

He didn't even register how he grabbed his coat, leaving the half-open beer on his table and sprinting out into the rain.  
His feet were bringing him somewhere, somewhere he knew he had to go now. But instead of the street and the big skyscrapers he could only see the pictures from TV blinking in his head.  
A damaged car.  
Ambulance with blue light.  
Faces with shocked grimaces.  
A medical stretcher with a person on it, unconscious, not moving, not breathing, not -  
“SHIT!!!!” He screamed into the brimming night to pull the thoughts away. But they were burned into his mind, haunting him on his run to a destination only his unconsciousness seemed to know.

 

Slowly, as his mind started to think clearly again, he realized, that he had no fucking idea, where he was.  
His surroundings seemed familiar, but he couldn’t grasp an idea about his location. Cursing his mind for his idiotic and impulsive action he looked around the area with mostly suburban houses, when a car passing by suddenly hit the brakes right next to him.  
The door swung open and Ivana’s face popped out of the car.  
“Perfect timing, Doffy. Get in, we have a wild drive in front of us.”  
On her head was a scarf tied around, where Doflamingo was used to see pompous violet locks. He didn’t had a moment to answer, when he was already dragged in by the women and practically thrown on the backseat next to her.  
Someone closed his door and gave notice to their driver.  
“Okay, hit the Pedal Dadan! It’s an hour to the hospital, I want to be there in a half!”  
Doflamingo had only time to fasten his seat belt, when the car jumped forward and raced into the direction of their joined nightmare. 

 

On the ride to the hospital, he used to the time to ask Ivana, how he had found him.  
“Instinct,” she replied, and tapped her nose. “I got to know you as someone who makes his decisions on quit impulsive actions. I could guess that you were running around somewhere in the rain. The rest is simple coincidence.”  
Doflamingo satisfied himself with that answer and leaned into the seats, holding on for his dear life as Dadan changed the streets of the city to a Formula one race.  
His clothes were soaked by the rain and stuck to his skin, but the coldest feeling was the deep and dark fear in his heart.


	5. V

Crocodile was lifeless and as pale as a sheet. The machines beeping around him created a scaring atmosphere. Doflamingo felt even colder in the hospital room, the white around him giving him shudders down his spine.  
His face was covered in bandages, one particular going horizontal all over his nose and face, but still Doflamingo could make out some of the scars and dried blood crusting up on his skin. His right arm was also covered in several bandages, and his hand lied in a splint.   
His neck was also inside one, making the proud man, Doflamingo knew and loved, looking like a fragile doll.

When they had reached the hospital, Crocodile had been already brought into the operation room, and the head of surgery, a man named Dr. Trafalgar, had confirmed the worst.

 

_He was greeted by a man in his early 40ties with raven black hair and a distinctive little beard and glasses.  
“Mister Donquichotte?” The doctor asked him.   
Ivana was doing the paperwork together with another doctor named Kureha. Crocodile wondered why she had dismissed the offer not to go inside to the operation room with her son until everything was ready and the anesthetic medication worked.  
He nodded as a sign that he was present. He had no confidence in his voice.  
The doctor led them to a table and told him to sit down, doing the same.   
“Miss Ivana has added you as the fiancé to the list of relatives. Is that right?”  
Nod.  
“Okay.” The doctor corrected his glasses. “My name is Doctor Trafalgar, and Mister Emporio will be in my care for this operation. We will begin shortly, when his condition is stable.”   
“…”   
“Hm?” The doctor noticed Doflamingo’s attempt at saying something.  
“… his… hand. What will be with his hand?”  
Doctor Trafalgar let out a little sigh. “As it seems, there is no other possible treatment then amputation. As far as I could throw a first look on it, the limb got thoroughly crashed in the accident by the other car. To be honest, it’s a miracle that he will only loose his hand. From the first observations we could make, milliseconds have saved his life. There are also several other threats to his life. One of his cervicals is broken and he has several inner wounds.”  
The information felt like ice on Doflamingo’s neck.  
He didn’t say anything.   
Doctor Trafalgar stood up, from his chair and squeezed his shoulder quick.   
“If I can give you something for your nerves later, don’t hesitate to ask me. Having to deal with the person you love in such a situation can be a shock.” Then he proceeded to go back to the operation room where Crocodile was fighting for his life inside.  
His Crocodile.  
His love.  
His everything and only.   
“Do you have a family, doctor?” Doflamingo suddenly asked out on a reflex, before the doctor could get inside.  
“Yes, I do. A son and a baby daughter. And of course, my wife.” He answered muffled through his mask.  
Doflamingo nodded. “What would you do, if you lost them?”  
Doctor Trafalgar stared at him. “That's a very horrible question, Mister Donquichotte. Don't you think so?”  
Doflamingo swallowed hard. He knew. “I know,” he said. “Because that's how I feel right now.”  
The doctor was quiet for a moment. He seemed to hesitate, then put his hand on Doflamingo's shoulder again.  
“I won't say that losing a part of your body isn't a big issue comparing it with losing your whole life and that you should be glad, that he still has the latter. If you want to help Mister Emporio to find a way to deal with it, then I suggest you show him that he still has his whole worth as a human being.”  
He gave his shoulder two little claps and walked to the door.  
“And that will help?”  
The doctor turned around. “My wife works as a psychiatrist with depression patients. If anything works in this mind hell, then let's hope it's that. But first, let’s hope the operation will be without any complications. Believe in your husband and pray for him.” The shutting sound of the door left Doflamingo alone with the words of the doctor and his own hollow mind._

 

His steps were barely audible as he walked to the hospital bed and the chair beside it.   
Somehow he had the image that he would break something if he was too loud.  
Everything was so calm and silent in this room beside the machine’s beeping.  
And in the middle of it, Crocodile, white as everything around him, mask on his mouth, his eyes closed. He could be only sleeping.

He could be dead.

The thoughts inside Doflamingo’s head were numbing his senses even more. He reached for Crocodiles hand – for his only hand left after 6 hours of operations.  
He tried to avoid totally looking at the other side of the bed. He didn’t want to see what was there, or better, what wouldn’t be there anymore. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle it in this moment.  
He forbad himself to freak out over it when he would see the…. Missing… limb.  
Crocodiles hand was cold.  
Maybe it was an illusion.  
Maybe there was still a hand on the other side.  
Schrödinger’s cat came into Doflamingo’s mind.  
In the same moment Doflamingo wanted to hit himself for his stupid thoughts.  
A nurse came in to chance one of the Infusion bags.  
“Do you...” Doflamingo noticed that his mouth was totally dry. “Do you know when he will wake up?”  
The nurse looked between him and Crocodile. “’I can’t give you further details. He went through a pretty big shock. But ‘I can get you the doctor, if you want. Are you a relative of his?”  
Doflamingo was unsure how to answer for a moment.  
“I’m his fiancé.” He decided to say.  
The nurse gave him quite a special look. “Oooh. Okay. Wait a moment. I’ll see what I can do.” Then she was out of the room.

 

Moments later Ivana came through the door and told him to get a break.   
“Go home, shower and switch your clothes. Eat something and take a nap. Then you can come back. It doesn’t help either of you if you’re going to mope around half-dead at his bed.”  
Doflamingo had to give in to her. She was right, it wouldn’t help.  
“I just talked with Kureha and Dr. Trafalgar.” She went on. A hand came up to his face and stroked his cheek.  
“Remember, what I told you? About life not always being a ride into sunrise?”” she added with a whisper.  
Doflamingo could only nod.  
“This is a ride into the darkest of nights. Remember that you promised me something, as well as him. I count on you to show, that your words weren’t just hollow lines.”  
Then she urged him softly out of the door, maybe more for his own good then for Crocodiles.

 

Crocodile felt warm and cozy. He could feel the steady breathing of Doflamingo in his neck and wanted to turn around to kiss his fiancé of one month on his mouth. But as he tried to move, he felt like strings were trapping him, and his breathing got more and more heavy the more he struggled against.  
And suddenly, Doflamingo wasn’t by his side, but a black car, coming at him at high speed, breaks on the slippery pavement and a high scream-  
He teared his eyes open. White was in his vision, shining white, and he wondered if he was in heaven.  
A car accident.  
That much Crocodile could remember. The moment when the front of the black Mercedes was crashing directly into the back seat of his car and burying him in a mass of steel came back as vividly to him as a movie.  
He remembered trying to get his left hand out as soon as everything stopped spinning and crashing, and instantly he felt the pain shot in the limb.   
“…” no sound came out of his mouth. He realized how stiff he felt. A beeping noise reached his ears, and as he let his eyes wander as far as his head allowed him to move he could make out a hospital room very similar to the one where he visited his mom.  
His mother. Was she okay? And Doflamingo? They must’ve been in panic right now over him.  
Again, pain shot into his left limb and he tried to drag it close to him to see the damage that has been done, when a friendly but tight grip hold his arm down.  
“Don’t overexert yourself Mr. Emporio. Welcome back.”  
A low, quiet voice became a matching face of a fatherly locking man with smiling green eyes.  
He wore a doctor’s coat and sat by his bed, holding his arm so that he couldn’t see further down than the Vigo that pumped red liquid into his system.  
“…”  
“It’s okay. My name is Doctor Trafalgar, I performed surgery on you. You won’t be able to speak at first, so don’t try to rush it. Your voice will come back fully by tomorrow.”  
“… es.”   
“Good. Okay, so I should try to see how far your orientation is, but I guess, most of that can wait.” He gave him a conspiring wink at his words.  
“Hand.” Crocodile managed to say somewhat clearly.   
The doctor nodded. “I know. You have the option of me telling you what happened or seeing for yourself. Honestly, either way comes out the same. Which do you prefer?”  
Crocodile tugged his arm up to show his preference.  
“Okay.” The doctor exhaled and under his carefully watching eyes, he released his arm and placed the limb carefully into Crocodiles field of vision.  
The first thing, that came to Crocodiles mind, was the feeling of an optical illusion. The hurt in his hand wasn’t there where his hand was.  
Then, it slowly dawned on him.  
Where his hand should be.  
 _There was no hand._

 

Crocodile had been in coma for a whole week. The first time he had woken up, Doctor Trafalgar had directly told him about his hand and explained slowly and carefully, what had happened and what measures they had to take in order to save Crocodile’s life.  
Doflamingo had received the call from Ivana, that Crocodile was awake. When he asked her if she was already at the hospital, she declined.  
 _“Unfortunately I won’t be able to step outside my house today, Doffy. Please go instead of me. Oh and tell Crocodile many kisses and hugs from the boys.”_  
Then she had hung up on him. Doflamingo’s feeling told him, that something wasn’t right with Ivana too, but he couldn’t investigate further in that, seeing as his own partner was being in a horrible situation and Ivana counting on him to handle it.

He experienced his first time seeing the man he loved crying like a little child in his arms.   
When the realization had finally hit Crocodile like a hammer, he had sunken limply into Doflamingo’s arms, wailing and screaming about everything which was now lost and gone forever.  
His hands had been his capital, the tool with which he had created his own Imperium.   
And Doflamingo was at a loss of words on what to tell him, to make Crocodile feel better. He only could empathize in his misery and share his tears on endless days of recovery at the hospital bed.

 

Two months later, Crocodile was discharged.  
While his body had recovered from mostly everything, and only some scratches and a very prominent scar over his face maintained, his mental condition over the loss of something so important him only got more and more worse by the day.  
On top of the chain of misery, Doflamingo had found out through some investigations of old colleagues about the real state of Ivana’s health.   
He had been wary about the fact that Ivana hadn’t shown herself even once in the hospital and later on in Crocodile’s mansion, and her excuses about now feeling well had been fishy enough for Doflamingo to start a little research on her. He had wanted to trust her, but lately he had felt, like he had to shoulder all the burden alone, and it was slowly draining him.  
As soon as the documents had lied on his table, he had instantly taken a cab to her home with the intention of asking her why the hell she hadn’t told anybody about her condition but he had been in for a bad surprise.

_When he entered the by now very familiar house where he had spent many Sundays with Crocodile on Ivana’s couch drinking coffee and playing with the kids, he found the silence in those usually lively halls deafening.  
Dadan came out in the hallway, and before he could say anything, she held up her hand.  
“If you want to scream and make a scene at something or be mad, go outside, and scream it out. And then you can come in again and we are going to answer your questions.”  
Doflamingo swallowed down his protest.  
“I am ok. Bring me to Ivana.” Dadan agreed and took him to the bedroom on the ground floor at the end of the hall.  
“She isn’t feeling well today. Yesterday, either. She has her up and downs, but recently the downs got more.”  
A sheer panic grabbed Doflamingo’s heart with ice cold claws. What had the Emporio bloodline deserved that they both had to suffer this much?  
“Where are the kids?” He asked Dadan. They arrived at the door to Ivana’s sleeping chamber.  
“I pressured Garp into taking them back to his home for a while. Inazuma and Paula are taking turns watching them when he’s at work. I didn’t leave this house for the last few mounts and Ivana needs every ounce of help she gets from me.”  
She opened the door and bid him inside. “Speak, but speak quietly. The noise makes her vomit.”  
Ivana was lying in the half-dark room, the window shades being half down. As Doflamingo came nearer to the bed she lied in, he was shocked about her sunken face and the missing hair on her head.  
Now the scarf finally made sense to him.  
“Not one of the nicest views, is it?” Ivana’s voice was raspy and tired. She lifted up her weak body which had become thin, as if she was only skin and bones.  
“Oh god…” Doflamingo breathed out. “I had no idea.” He sat down on the bed, helping his mother-in-law to straighten up herself on the bed properly.  
“Well, then my plan succeeded at least partly. Even though it would’ve been nice, if you hadn’t poked your nose in matters that don’t regard you.” Her voice held no malice as she said the words.  
“But; Why Ivana? Why did you tell no one, not even your own son?”  
Ivana stared long at him. “When Crocsy had told us about you the first time – back when he wanted to tell himself that you were ‘only’ his model – I have first since long seen him so investigated into a person, not just her worth for himself. He didn’t show it much, but he really was interested in you, not only how you would sell.”  
She was interrupted by a coughing fit and Doflamingo held her thin frame, afraid that it would break her.   
“I’m sorry… well, either way, I got the results the days after you two had already started to get the hots for each other,” Doflamingo rolled his eyes internally at this memory, “and I simply didn’t want to take the spotlight with my illness. Crocodile finally had a chance to get happy with someone even if needed many pushes to understand that. But when the day came and he introduced you to us officially as your boyfriend, I saw it as proof that I made the right choice. And I am still convinced of it.”  
Her hand patted his arm lightly.   
“I was the happiest on the Sundays, when we were all sitting here together like the kind of family I had always wished for my boy. And you were the piece that changed the line to a closed circle. For me, that were officially already my last days. One week before Crocodile’s accident, I had already planned on going to Switzerland and have my slowly death there in peace, but it seems that the gods played a cruel joke on me one last time.”  
The smile on her face was sad and angry and only gave more credit to the strong persona she was.  
“Now I have to see my boy suffering while being no help at all.”  
Doflamingo took her in her arms with great care, afraid to break her.  
“You have already helped so much.” He said. Inside he tried to push back the tears at the overwhelming feeling question of how much both Ivana and Crocodile must’ve had endured in the past, that she had put such a cruel fate willingly on herself, just to ensure that Crocodile would be happy.  
He didn’t put her into the category of a self-sacrificing woman for the sake of others, and he realized it wasn’t also the case now. It was simply Ivana’s idea of how the order of things had to be, and her thick skull of keeping exactly said order up and going._

 

Ivana had continued asking questions about Crocodile’s state of health, and this time Doflamingo had made the decision to put a huge censor on what he told her and what not. He had been certain that Ivana must’ve noticed that, but she hadn’t asked any more questions, and shortly after Dadan had been coming in, telling her to rest now.  
With the dark secret adding on the weight on his shoulders, Doflamingo had returned to Crocodile’s mansion and his own nemesis.

They spent the days like in a fever dream.  
Doflamingo had locked himself together with Crocodile in the apartment, only letting Dadan and Paula in and out for buying groceries and supplies.  
Paula had been an angel of her own, nearly ripping herself and her department in two, to choke down every little piece of information that somehow found its way to the press. Her sleeping schedule was reduced on 4 hours a day, which became a regular thing for the entire household that included him and Dadan.   
The following few weeks, they somehow pulled a stunt between what was left of their work, visiting the slowly dying Ivana, who got hospitalized in the meantime due to her bad condition, and keeping the house and themselves in order while taking care of Crocodile, who had fallen into a deep and endless pit of self-misery.   
Screaming and wailing into his pillow at night because of the phantom pain and the agony.  
Throwing things from surfaces when he had tried to grabbed them with his lost hands.  
Or just sitting there apathetically, doing nothing, staring into a non-existent abyss.  
Some nights he allowed Doflamingo to lull him into sleep. It was somedays the only part of the day, there they had somewhat functioning conversations.  
“It hurts.”  
“I know. I’m here.”  
“When will it stop hurting?”  
“Soon, I promise.”  
“You can’t promise such a thing.”  
“then let me try.”  
“… Doffy.”  
“Yes?”  
“Am I worthless now?”  
Doflamingo bite down on his lips to stop the tears.  
He wished that he could punch someone, who would bear the responsibility for Crocodile asking such things, but he knew that it was Crocodile himself. If anything, he was in the worst position of them all, battling a fight, that seemed to get worse the more he tried.  
Every time when Crocodile tried to act normal, some little gesture reminded him of his new condition and added one demon more to the hell that was spreading inside his head.  
“You aren’t. You aren’t and you never will be. No matter what.”

Doflamingo, upon remembering Dr. Trafalgar’s words, had called his wife Mrs. Trafalgar, who according to his research was a renowned psychiatrist. Using his famous name and Crocodile’s had helped to convince Mrs. Trafalgar for regular visits and check-ups.  
Right now she came downstairs after her first conversation with Crocodile alone.  
Doflamingo brought her to the living room and asked her to take a seat.  
“As for now I can say that he has depressive episodes.” She stated her diagnosis.  
Doflamingo nodded. “Depressions.”  
Dr. Trafalgar, a small woman with long orange hair, shook her head. “No, Mr. Donquichotte, depressive episodes. There’s a difference. Depression patients have their outer appearance mostly under control, while the inner state of mind is slowly crumbling. While this might also be the case from time to time with Mr. Emporio, due to the fact that his behavior is triggered by the car crash and the loss of his left hand, I rather see his behavior as episodes. I had that case with many patients, who lost a limb or another part of their body. The shock of losing something drags them into episodic depression attacks, which are similar to a bipolar disorder.”  
“And what can we do against this? How can I help him?”  
Dr. Trafalgar packed the documents of her anamnesis together and put them into her case.   
“Physical and emotional backup, Mr. Donquichotte. And patience. Patience and rest.”  
She stood up and made herself ready to leave.  
“I will come two times a week and talk with Mr. Emporio. But I also count on you, to stay by his side. You are his fiancé, right?”  
Doflamingo agreed.   
“Well, then stay at his side. Encourage him. Show him, that it’s okay to be down as well. Mr. Emporio has to arrange himself anew in a world where his hands were a more vital part of it than maybe in other lives. He is a perfectionist on top of that. It will be hard for him, but I can sense, that he has a thick skin. He will overcome it.”  
With those hopeful words she bid her goodbyes and for the first time since many weeks, Doflamingo felt something like confidence.

Every morning from then on, when he woke up, he swore to himself, that he wouldn't give up.  
He wouldn't let the man he loved more then everything sink into darkness.  
'Before that happens, I'll go there myself, to catch him, when he falls.' He bitterly thought to himself.

Vergo had been calling him a few times, but Doflamingo’s ditched all meetings and appointments aside.  
Sometimes his manager would tell him to at least try to show up to some interviews. Taking invitations from a few shows. But Doflamingo declined everything. He had one mission right now, and that was to help the man, who meant everything for him, back on his feet.  
There was no point in a life without Crocodile for him.

 

In the last days of August, Dr. Kureha handed him Ivana’s newest results during a visit in the hospital.  
Her stare was intensive, and her words sharp like a blade.  
“I know, what kind of people the Emporio are, Doflamingo. I’ve known them longer than anyone, and I am quite aware of their little games of protecting each other. But you should sometimes ask yourself, if you want to become like this too, or if there’s another way of protecting someone you love.”

Ivana had maximum a week of her life left.

 

Back at home, his mind was still a mess. 'A couple of days. Maybe more. Maybe less.' his brain echoed. He had to tell Crocodile. But how? The man was as broken down as his mother.  
With a deep sigh he took the stairs to the bedroom. The door was open and as he stepped in, he found it empty.  
“Crocodile?” he asked, but the man was nowhere to see. The sound of paper rustling came from the other end of the hallway, and a feeling of a dark premonition settled in Doflamingo’s heart.  
“Oh god no.” With fast steps he crossed the hallway to the library. His thoughts were racing.  
The documents.  
The documents of Ivana’s diagnosis and the treatment bills.  
The whole fucking map with every paper documenting Ivana's state of sickness.  
The latest MRT scans, excluding the in his hand.  
Holy fucking shit.  
He entered the library, trying to find the right words as he approached to source of the paper rustling: Crocodile standing with his back to him, one of the MRT scans in his hand.  
Doflamingo’s voice was barely a whisper now. “Crocodile?”  
“Cancer.”  
“Crocodile listen, I think, it's better if you-”  
“Cancer. My mother has fucking Cancer.”  
Doflamingo wanted to reply something, but his mouth was dry as a desert and his mind empty.  
The words hung like thick clouds in the room.  
But the look in Crocodiles eyes far from the one Doflamingo had imagined. Moreover, it was stare which he had missed over the last few weeks (or had it been months? Suddenly Doflamingo had a hard time measure the length of days they had spent here together).  
Crocodile carefully picked up the hospital documents with the latest blood results.  
His next words were carefully and slowly spoken. “When did you plan to tell me that?”  
Doflamingo took a deep breath. In that moment, his brain left every option of pondering arguments back and forth behind and made the intuitive decision to go with the truth.   
“I didn't wan- okay, no. WE ALL didn't want you to feel more miserable. The doctors also recommended to keep this away from you.”  
Something went on in Crocodiles mind, Doflamingo could feel the gears working in him as he told him their resolve. The air was crackling, as if a storm was coming up.  
And then it was coming.  
As if the atmosphere around them would've snapped, he turned abruptly around and stormed downstairs.  
“What are you doing?” Doflamingo questioned loudly, following his fast steps.  
Crocodile was already in the hallway. He turned around and the aura surrounding made the change in his behavior suddenly quite visible.  
Doflamingo didn't knew what it was until he saw Crocodile's eyes. It was as if a small spark of that old gleam in them was back, the spark of a man who had absolutely nothing to lose, the furrowed brow, the mouth a thin controlled line.  
“MY mother has cancer and two a handful of days left to live and you are asking me what to do?”  
He grabbed his coat, scarf and slipped into his shoes.  
“Of course I am going to visit her, what else?!”  
The designer took his phone and made a call. Skipping the last obligatory look into the mirror, he opened the entrance door.  
“You are free to join me.”  
‘Please, come with me.’  
A déjà vu played in Doflamingo’s head. The evening when Ivana had been first hospitalized and had ruined their first time together. Luckily, as it had led to him and Crocodile becoming a real thing.  
“Ah, hello Mr. Zero. Get the car ready. I want to be at the Saint Bartholomew’s hospital in not more than half an hour.” Then, Crocodile was out the door and on his way to the limousine which would await him in at the gate.  
Doflamingo stood in the hallway thunderstruck.  
Trying to comprehend what was happening, he grabbed his coat which he had just laid off and sprinted after Crocodile.

 

“Good Evening, Kureha. How’s the none existing patient?”  
If Edward Trafalgar loved one thing, then it was bickering with the Head of the Neurological department, Doctor Kureha.  
Especially about the newest rumor, which spread through the halls of the Saint Bartholomew.  
“Keep your voice down, Trafs. I have enough shit at my hands keeping those babbling nurses down, who even can’t keep a secret longer than their fucking pee.” The old women replied.  
“This morning even a fucking paparazzo was trying to come undercover into the clinic because those shitheads of security didn’t do their job right. And who was the one to clean up after them?!”   
Edward sat down in the stool next to her, going through his patients and their medical records to check if everything was okay.  
“Ah yeah, I think I had him in my room today. Thought that hook to the chin was from you. By the way, how’s Ivana?”  
Kureha shook her head. “Miserable of course. I put her on the palliative station, even though she refused at the beginning. But if she wants to live long enough to see her son recover, then she’d better fucking do what I tell her and accept the treatment – even if it’s just a painful extension of some days or weeks.”  
Edward was fascinated by the fighting spirit that Ivana Emporiova possessed. Normally the kind of cancer she had would’ve been no longer treated in order not to torture the patient more than necessary. But Ivana wished for exactly that: keeping her alive and conscious as long as possible.  
“She’s really a brave woman.” He commented his thoughts.  
“She’s a fucking mother hen, who can’t stop doting on her son. I told her this all my life, but she waved it always away, telling me that it was just ‘giving him the right assets to survive in this cruel world’.”  
Kureha let the pen spin between her fingers. “Not that she was in the wrong. Do you remember her husband, Salvatore Emporio?”  
Edward nodded. He remembered the boulevard magazines reporting his death and the scandals of mafia business and drugs around him.  
“Before you came, a pediatrician and old colleague of mine, Dr. Hiluluk worked here. I would often chat with him after work. One day he told me about a recent case of a child patient which was a well preserved secret in the hospital: the case of a 6-year old boy who had been numerously beaten up and abused by his own father, until one of the caretakers was able to get him out of their house and brought him here.”  
She stopped and observed his face to see if he could put one and one together.  
“And that boy was… Crocodile Emporio?” Kureha nodded.  
“He was in an awful condition, skin black and blue, not opening his mouth for even as much as a single word. Ivana had come running into this building like a fury upon getting the news of what had happened to her son. Though I don’t know how much she had to suffer herself under that man – that’s the last secret she’ll take into her grave I guess – she had been crying the whole night when she saw the bruises of her son.”  
“How did she hide her son’s stay in the hospital? She was a world famous model back then, wasn’t she?”  
Kureha put the still spinning pen on the table and shut her patients records.   
“She had the luck that the director of the hospital had been an old fan of her and was ready to take the responsibility on him. The next few months, Crocodile spent his life here in this hospital, recovering physically and mentally. Slowly he regained his usual behavior. I even remember him getting very close to a child named Bon Clay who was staying here because of their parents who were worried that they claimed to be a girl and a boy.”  
The surgeon raised an eyebrow. “Who gives their kid away in a psychiatric department because of that?”  
Kureha huffed at his question. “different times, doctor. Even now, children are sent to psychologists and fed psychopharmaceutic shit in certain states for that.”  
Edward shook his head in disbelief. True, he heard some stories, but hadn’t deemed them to be true. Suddenly another thought crossed his mind. What if…?  
“Does the record of Crocodiles stay back then still exist in the hospital documents?”   
Kureha shrugged. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t count on it. The whole case had been kept under the covers, and as far as I know the records had been led under a fake name. Though I don’t know which. But why do you ask?”  
“My wife is treating Crocodiles depressive attacks. She had mentioned that it had similar patterns to patients with childhood traumas, but seeing as that was more a theory than a fact and her concentrating more on the loss of his left hand… oh my god.” He brought his hands to his face, as a wild theory started to form in his mind. He stood up and wanted to ask Kureha if she knew anything more about the case, when a rash movement from the other side of the nurse’s rooms glass wall caught his eye.  
“Oh my god. What timing.” He mumbled as he realized, who just stomped at midnight through the halls of the hospital.  
Kureha turned around to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside.  
The color of her face changed into dark, angry red. “What the hell, are we in a fucking hospital drama here or what!” she spat out furiously as she hurried after a very determined looking Crocodile Emporio who was hurrying in the direction of the palliative station.  
Edward ran after her, just in case he would miss a showdown.

 

Crocodile blended out the noise Kureha was making behind him, trying to catch up to him. He didn’t notice the afraid stares of the nurses around him who were jumping out of his way. There was only one thing important right now: his mother.  
It was comically strange how their roles from 20 years apart were now turned around: His mother, the suffering patient in the clinic, and him, the unknowing grown-up who couldn’t give more fucks about his own condition when the person he cared so much for was in such a horrible state.  
He had left Doflamingo down at the entrance counter who probably was still apologizing for Crocodiles behavior of nearly beating a security guard with his remaining hand to a pulp if he wouldn’t get the information of where his mother was in an instant.  
Served him right.   
What a fucking bad idea, to keep his mother’s illness from him; even if he could imagine, that the great game maker behind all this had been his mother herself.  
To protect him and carve him a way to never-ending happiness, like she had promised 20 years ago.

 

_“Croccy my boy. Oh god. My little boy.” His mummies face is hidden in the crook of his neck and he can feel hear tears soaking his clothes. Her arms are holding him in a tight grip, and even though it hurts a little, he doesn’t say anything.  
The tears make him choke on the lump in his throat. Everything hurts anyway, so it’s fine if his mummies grip is a bit hard, as long as she doesn’t ever let go of him again.  
“Mama will protect you, I promise. That man will never touch you again.” More tears come out and Crocodile’s little arms aren’t still enough to reach around her whole body. But one day they will be. And then he also will protect himself and his mummy from all the bad things in this world, so his mummy never has to cry like that again.  
“I swear, Croccy,” his mummy hiccups in his chest. “You'll never have to cry again. I will find you happiness. There’s so much happiness in this world. Even for you.”_

 

How could he've been so blind and selfish? While he had rolled around in self-pity about his hand, his mother was fighting for her life to keep this promise, while he had totally forgotten about everything, she was squeezing out every second of her clock that she was able to get, just to finally see him find happiness.

He gabbed the handle to his mother’s room to open the door, but it already was.   
“Mother?” he called into the room, voice an octave higher.  
“Crocodile, don’t yell in my hospital!” Kureha hissed from behind, and he could barely escape her fist that was flying down on him, by jumping into the dark room. He looked right and left. The room was empty.  
“I’m on the balcony,” he heard a weak voice from the open door in front of him.  
Crocodile followed her voice and stepped out into the night.  
Doflamingo’s quick outlines about the condition and look of his mother had certainly been not enough to prepare him for the shock he got, when he saw her, but it helped at least a bit.   
Ivana was barely the essence of her own body right now. Her shaky, barren hands were crossed in her lap, which was covered by a thick duvet. She sat in a wheelchair, several IV bags pumping liquids in through the Vigo at her neck.  
“I knew you would be coming. Paula got the information from Doflamingo and paged it to me.”  
Her head was bald and her lips dry and porous.   
Only her eyes and the corners of her mouth hadn’t changed, holding the same loving look like always on them.  
“…Mummy.” His knees gave in and he sank down, his arms on his mother’s lap, his only hand holding her fragile body.   
He wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’, for coming so late, for not realizing, for forgetting what had been the most important.  
He wanted to say ‘I’m sorry’ for so many things.  
But as he kneeled there, his mind was blank. Then, finally, a somewhat relieving sadness was washing over his body, and he didn’t even make an effort to stop the tears that were flowing out of his eyes.  
Ivana patted his head in a soothing manner. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Cry, all you want for all the times you didn’t. I’ll stay with you.”  
And he cried.  
Cried, because his mother was dying.  
Cried, because he had lost a hand and he was scared if he could still be the invincible man he wanted to be for himself and his mother without it.  
Cried, because of Doffy’s red eyes on so many mornings lately, which he didn’t dare to talk about with Crocodile, because he didn’t want to burden him with his stress.  
Cried, because he hated that he was still so vulnerable despite of promising himself never to be again.  
He cried and cried, and his tears couldn’t find a stop. His head became fuzzy and heavy because of the strain that it put on him.  
Ivana didn’t stop to pat his head until he was a bit calmer.  
“Croccy, my boy. I don’t know how long I will still keep up, so there’s one thing, I need to know.”  
Crocodile lifted his head. “What is it?” He asked, rubbing his nose from the crying.  
Ivana stroked his cheek lovingly.   
“Will you be able to find happiness; not only for my sake, but also for the sake of this young man?”  
Her eyes went to a point behind him, and as he turned around, he found Doflamingo staying on the balcony.   
His eyes were looking always as their gazes met first, but then he immediately looked back, holding Crocodiles stare.  
In the light of the moon he could see the weariness in his eyes and the tired, yet hopeful smile.   
“I think they’re going to let go of a report to the police, down there. But you’re probably going to have to pay compensation for immaterial damage, you know.” He whispered.  
Crocodile let out a short laugh in disbelief of the completely out of context sentence.  
“Did you beat someone up for my sake, Croccyboy?” his mother wanted to know, amusement in her words.  
“Let’s say he used additional measures to politely ask for the directions.” Doflamingo joked back at her and they both fell into a short chuckle.  
Doflamingo proceeded to kneel down beside Crocodile in front of Ivana.  
“I guess we will be good, huh?” he mouthed quietly.  
“Well, will you?” Ivana signed for him to give her his hand and took both his and Crocodile’s into her hands.  
Crocodile could feel how they both reassured him, their gazes lying always on him and their words giving him strength to believe in a greater tomorrow.  
“Yeah, I guess, we will.”

They stayed like that in silence.   
Crocodile leaned against Doflamingo, their hands joined in Ivana’s lap by her own.  
Eventually the sound of her breathing stopped. Crocodile looked up at her peaceful face.  
“Mum?”   
Doflamingo’s hands were at her wrist, checking the pulse.  
“She’s gone.” He whispered.  
Crocodile nodded and buried his face in the soothing shoulder of his lover.


	6. EPILOGUE

\- September 2005 – 

The weather was particularly good today.  
No rain, and the sun made a power run on the last days of summer.  
Crocodile stood in the hallway of the Emporio Mansion and tried for the fourth time to fix his tie, but his prosthetic hand slipped away each time, when he wanted to hold the piece of garment.  
“Yo, Uncle Crocs! Ya need any help??” Luffy came sliding down the balustrade of the stairs and made a perfect land on the tiled floor.  
“Luffy, didn’t Dadan tell you to stop that? You will get in trouble if she catches you.” He warned to boy, but not really meaning it.  
Luffy grinned at him. “You won’t tell her! I know, because real men don’t snitch upon each other!” He showed his white teeth with an award-grinning smile.  
“Oh? Is that so?” Crocodile smirked. “Well then, tell me, real man Luffy: can you fix a tie?” He crouched down on the floor to be face to face with the 9-year-old boy.   
Luffy rubbed his chin upon several looks of the tie like a physician trying to fix the equation of the universe.  
“Hm… hmhmhm…” he made the noises to sound like he was thinking really hard, but Crocodile knew, that he absolutely no plan, but played along.  
He saw Doflamingo coming down, looking absolutely gorgeous in his marine blue suit.   
“Oh, what do we have here?” he asked as he emitted down the stairs. Behind him, Ace came tapping down, singing the Power Rangers theme.  
“Luffy is fixing my tie.” He explained with a meaningful wiggle of his eyebrows.  
“Oh, of course.”  
“Yeah,” Ace piped up, “but I guess, that won’t do. I think you gotta change your tie. That one’s clearly broken to me.” He closed up his diagnosis.  
Crocodile got himself up. “Well, what do you say, Doffy? I think I’ve got to go back upstairs and change my tie.”  
Doflamingo suppressed his chuckle by kissing Crocodile on his lips. “Hm~… let me take a look. Maybe I can work some magic, and get it repaired.” He mumbled against his lips.  
“Eeewww, kissing” Luffy scrunched his nose.   
Crocodile twitched his eyebrow with a smile at the comment.   
“So,” Doflamingo huffed a bit louder, “what do we do? Maybe a bit of here,” his hands held the tie while fixing the Winchester knot back to its place, “and there, and …. whoosh!” He turned around to Ace and Luffy to present him the result. “Magic!” he whispered. Ace rolled with his eyes.  
Sabo came down with Paula, who had slicked his hair back and given him a little cylinder on top of his head. He looked like a young lord.  
“Sabo, Sabo!” Luffy quacked, “Doflamingo is a magic man!”  
“Oh god Luffy, stop believing that everything’s magic just because you can’t explain it!” Sabo said followed by an annoyed sound.  
“Am totally not.”  
“You are totally.” Ace helped his older brother out.  
Doflamingo laughed and sneaked an arm around his hip.  
“Well, at least one person here still believes in my magic, huh?”  
“Maybe.” Crocodile cooed back at his lover, his fiancé.  
And in less than a few hours, his husband.

 

After the death of his mother, they had moved together in her house, as her last will had been.  
Crocodile had sold his former villa, but they had kept Doflamingo’s apartment as a little resort when their daily life and the family became too much.   
After all, it had grown a bit now: Vergo and Paula were living now with them as well as the boys and Dadan. Inazuma was a regular guest when she wasn’t one some Island to find her inner self as well as Viola, who become very engrossed with the boys and brought them sweets and toys every time she dropped in. From time to time she brought her little sister Rebecca who would play with the boys. 

 

So when Crocodile and Doflamingo wanted to have a night for themselves, they would drive to the apartment and spent half of the night to make love.  
The other half, they would lie entangled in each other and talk.  
A half year after his mother’s death, Crocodile had started to tell Doflamingo about his father and his abuse.  
It was a hard topic, digging up things which only his mother and Bon knew, and which he had tried to forget for such a long time.

His depressive attacks had been finally gone by winter 2002, and Crocodile had started to work on a new collection to honor the life’s work of his mother. It was still strange for him, to work with the prosthetic hand, that Dr. Trafalgar had especially developed for him, but he got used to it step by step.  
Sometimes he still had a bit of phantom pain, but whenever he felt it, he would bury the stump in a crook of Doflamingo’s body. They had established that as a ritual with Doflamingo saying, that it would let the pain, because inside him there was no place for ‘stupid phantom pains’.

 

In July 2003, they suddenly received the news, that Dr. Trafalgar and her husband had died in a car crash, together with her youngest daughter. It had been reported, that only the 13-year old son had survived.   
Through his contacts, Doflamingo had found out, that the boy had no living relatives, and he had been reminded of his own cruel past which led to his efforts, to get the boy adopted.   
But as soon as the funeral had been held, every trace of the boy had disappeared, until a year later, Doflamingo had received the first note after nearly 13 years of his brother Corazon, whose real name was Rocinante and who meanwhile had moved to the capital of Spain, Madrid.   
The letter had stated, that he had taken custody of a young teenager named Law Trafalgar who was the son of…

_‘… and old friend of mine, that I got to know during my college days in the USA before I moved back to Spain. Edward Trafalgar had been giving lessons for biology and physics, which I tried to study in order to become a doctor, but I simply hadn’t the talent for it._  
(But I had quite a sense for poetry and prose. I don’t know if I can brag about it, but I have found my niche in the world of literature and can lead a pretty good life as the author ‘Corazon’. Maybe one day you’ll read one of my books?)  
Edward was a very calm and collected man who always took himself some extra time to explain me the things I hadn’t understood in the lectures. We met a lot in our free time talking about literature and art and I was invited many times in his house, where I also got know Law.  
When I returned to Spain I was still in contact with him, so I actually was well-informed about what happened here overseas with your life. The media did the rest.   
I didn’t tell him, that we are brothers, because I felt like it wasn’t the case anymore since long by that time. Meanwhile my opinion about that topic has changed, but I would rather we could discuss this in another letter.  
Law now lives with me, but I think it’s better for him if he returns to the place he lived. I can’t leave Spain right now, and getting a green card is also not an option for now. But Law is still a citizen of the states, so it’s possible for him.  
Now, to as why I am writing that letter to you…’ 

Rocinante had asked Doflamingo for the favor of adopting Law into his family, because he couldn’t do it in Spain without Law losing his citizenship.   
Of course Doflamingo had accepted immediately, and Crocodile had had no further objections.

In October 2004, Law Trafalgar became Doflamingo’s first legally adopted son.  
And today, he would become also Crocodile’s.

 

“Wooooooow, Traffy!! You look so cool!!” Luffy had little stars dancing in his eyes as he tippled around his newest brother (the three boys had instantly adopted Law into their brotherhood by exchanging god-knows-what), who came out of the living room.   
Law nearly reached up to Crocodile’s shoulder with his 15 years, and also didn’t lost in attractiveness to his two fathers: he had a sun kissed skin due to his year in Spain and the same dark raven hair as his father. He even tried to grow himself the same beard on his chin lately, but by now it was still a little stubble. His eyes were those of his mother, and Crocodile was often reminded of her and their sessions, when she had tried to get him to talk in his darkest times.

“Luffy, stop clinging to me.” Law said and plucked the youngest of them away from his smoking. “I am wearing the same dress as you. Minus the straw hat of course. Doffy, do you really want to allow him, to go out like that?”  
Doffy raised his hands. “If he’s feeling comfortable why not?”  
Law’s unbelieving glance went to Crocodile in hope of some sanity. The designer took his son to his other side that wasn’t occupied by Doflamingo. “Let him wear it. That way we won’t lose him during the buffet.”  
Law replied to his grin with another. “Oh god, I can imagine that.”  
“Okay, is everyone ready??”  
Paula came with Dadan out of the kitchen, where they had made last preparations for the after-wedding party.  
“My, my!” Paula said as she saw the boys standing together. “What a bunch of attractive young gentlemen. You four will surely charm the ladies tonight. Or the boys.” She giggled “I mean; your father’s won’t be the ones to object right?”  
“I don’t want ladies or boys, I want food!” Luffy objected.   
Dadan twisted his ear slightly. “You will get food if you behave yourself inside the chapel. And now out, out! The Limousines are waiting!”

The boys made a race to the cars, with Law trotting after them (of course he was much too cool to run), and Paula and Dadan went after them.

“Then, shall we, Mister soon-to-be-Donquichotte?” Doflamingo stretched his arm out for Crocodile.  
“You know that I won’t take on your name while my own is 14 billion dollars’ worth.”  
“Let a man dream.”  
“Later, maybe.” Crocodile snickered and gave him a light kiss.  
“I can give you a ride into the sunrise though, if you want.”  
Doflamingo kissed him back.  
“I would love that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOHO!  
> You got thorugh the whole thing, congratz!
> 
> So now the only thing left is to ask for your commentary and kudos. I would be very dileghted to hear if the Fanfiction touched your heart as it did mine, or tell me the things which aren't clear to you or your critique on my work.
> 
> I am very thankful that you stayed till the end.
> 
> With much love,  
> Racelett


End file.
